


Opia

by t0bemadeofglass



Series: Opia!Verse [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Car Sex, Complete, Dark, Detectives, Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Gun Violence, Implied Poe Dameron/Finn, Minor Character Death, Morally Ambiguous Character, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Wall Sex, Woman on Top, descriptions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-05-15 23:56:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5805349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>n. the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable</p><p>Rey’s the youngest detective to be promoted in the Resistance Police Department, and her first case wasn’t looking all that promising until Unkar Plutt was found dead in the old apartments she used to rent. Now, as the jagged pieces of an obscene puzzle start to fall into place, the only way to stop the killer may be to drag herself through her past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death of a Bachelor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trebia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trebia/gifts), [selinakyle47](https://archiveofourown.org/users/selinakyle47/gifts), [MariaArnt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaArnt/gifts).



> Okay, so . . . HUGE HUGE HUGE shout out to Trebia/Avenrue, SelinaKyle47, MariaArnt, and krakeneggs for all their help, support, everything. I know little to nothing about mysteries, crimefic, serial killer fic, etc. except what I've read on fanfic, and what I've seen on TV: these four have been monumentally helpful and incredible in coming up with this fic, the backstory, the plot, and everything in between. I honestly couldn't have done this without them.  
> That being said this is going to be some dark shit, so I don't recommend reading unless you're into it. Additional tags and warnings will be offered up per chapter/beginning notes, or end notes to avoid spoilers, so I'd check them if this sort of fic is a problem area for you. I really don't want to trigger anyone, so please do be careful when you read.

It'd been a little over a week and a half since the landlord of the complex on First and Outpost St. had been seen. Shady man that he was, it wasn't normal for him to have missed harassing his tenants on the days leading up to the first of the month, let alone not having made his rounds to the starving artists, the impoverished college students working three jobs to afford living in the city, or any of his tenants he considered too weak to stop him from bullying them. He wasn’t known to be compassionate enough to give extensions, or work with payment plans; everything was turned in on time, in full, or else he additional costs to line his own pockets with. Assuming, of course, that the recent rent increases weren’t already doing that. 

Needless to say it wasn’t any of the men and women who rented apartments from Unkar Plutt that had reported his noticeable absence. As was the case with, Plutt had debts of his own to pay, and when the collectors couldn't get a hold of him they turned to the RPD to help them gain restitution. It wasn’t unlike Plutt to disappear off the map for a short period of time while he finished making ends meet, but going on two weeks was excessive. That was as much as Poe Dameron knew, at least, as his sleek car pulled into the parking lot of the Bronze Horizon apartments as the sun hid behind the late afternoon clouds. He was tasked with making contact with Plutt and so had taken his favorite undercover car to keep from drawing too much attention. Things were already growing steadily hectic at the department, so a following up on a missing person report  wasn’t exactly what he'd had in mind when asking Chief Organa what it was he could do to help. Not like she could afford to put him on the same long-term cases the others were being assigned to. He was leaving in two days, finally using up the accumulated time off he’d been hoarding since he’d started at the Department to spend a month away from the craziness of Republic City, and the more work he could get done, the quicker the time would go. Ideally. He didn’t blame the Chief, just the rotten timing of it all. 

The wind bit at the uniform beneath his leather jacket, and his hands dug into the familiar, worn pockets, feeling the handle of his concealed gun. The dark, heavy clouds had been threatening to rain for the past week but given how cold the weather had turned, Poe wouldn’t have been amazed if snow was in the near future. He was looking to get out of there before it hit, ideally. Plutt lived on the basement floor, down a few steps, in the first building of the complex. Given the heaping trash that’d accumulated at the base of the stairwell Poe wasn’t primed to like the bastard much.

 

He found the landlord gutted like a pumpkin lying in the middle of the dark living room floor. The small room reeked, and Plutt’s body cavity had been stuffed with blood coated bills, now turned black. In that moment, Poe hated himself for thinking that it was in any way, shape, or form possible for him to take a vacation. After all, how would he have accumulated so much time off otherwise? He stifled a groan. Might as well call his mother now and tell her that his visit would be delayed. 

Fuck. 

“You had to get yourself fucking killed, didn’t you?” he muttered from under the hand he’d pressed to his nose. The whole room ran rank with the stench of sewage mixed with rotten eggs and raw meat, and he had to leave the dilapidated apartment in order to call it in, opting to sit in his car to escape the bitter cold. 

“Dispatch, this is Dameron. Found Plutt, but his debt collectors aren’t going to be getting anything out of him. I need a medical examiner and a forensics team. Oh, and if you could send either some nose plugs, or some Vapo-Rub with the detectives that’d be great. Thanks a million.” 

He rubbed his temples as he disconnected, greedily gulping down the fresh air as he waited for his requested back up. 

Of all the ways to spend a Friday afternoon. Chief Organa was not going to be pleased.

 

\--

 

_ “Please--I don’t know what it is you want but I don’t have anything! I’m broke, I’m tellin’ ya!” Plutt blubbered as the bindings around his wrist cut against the flabby skin of his wrists. The man in front of him had hooked his arms behind his back so that he couldn’t move them without being sure he’d dislocate something, the rope holding tight to the chair he’d been strapped to. It might’ve been worth the risk if he was sure he could get around his captor. “You can take my TV, take whatever ya want. Is this about rent?” He squinted. He hadn’t made out the man’s face, hadn’t been able to with how shadowed it was, but the air between them remained unchanged with the word. He’d been hoping that this was simply just an out of control situation, that some girl’s boyfriend had just worried too much about his girl paying rent, and was trying to scare him. It was working, but he could still get out of this. “Just tell me who it is that needs an extension--I’ll give it to ya.”  _

_ “You’ve gouged everyone who lives here and you expect me to believe you don’t have any money?” The voice was deep, and dark enough that Plutt’s skin erupted into shivers as it rumbled like low thunder. That was a voice that promised pain, suffering, and everything Plutt had worked his damndest to avoid. He tugged harder at the bindings and cried out when it strained the muscles in his shoulders, pulling so hard on the tendons that his arms were beginning to cramp up as a result. That was saying nothing about the skin that’d broken beneath the ropes tying him down, having chafed the skin for too long that it had begun to bleed. He was losing feeling in his fingertips, and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he saw something silver and sharp glint in the light.  _

_ “Okay--okay, there’s cash in the bedroom, under the mattress. Five, maybe six hundred? There’ll be more in my wallet in the top drawer.”  _

_ He could hear the wide grin splitting the man’s voice when he spoke next. As the man sat forward a gold cross hit the light, the small letters KoR inscribed on the long body of the symbol, the tip sharp looking, like a blade’s point. Plutt’s blabbering ceased with the recognition, hardly stifling a sob as the man said: “I’m not interested in your money. I want your computer records. And then I want you to scream.”  _

 

\--

 

The last time Rey had been to the Outer Rim had been when she’d walked out of her lease. She’d aged out of the Foster Care program, gotten herself a couple of jobs to try and work as many hours as she could, and put herself through the Police Academy as soon as the legal paperwork would allow. She’d done everything in her power to get through the training as fast as she could, but staying at these apartments hadn’t been an option that she had been comfortable with. 

And now, three homicides and months later, she was back. For her first case as a lead detective, no less. She reflected on just what a small world it was as she got out of the car from the passenger’s side, Finn closing the door behind him as he got out, too. He looked over at her and offered her a small smile. They’d only been assigned to one another for less than a month but already he had a knack for guessing just what her mental state was without her having to say a damn thing. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Good. You got Dameron’s Vapo-Rub?” she asked. Finn held it up and offered it to her. The menthol, when applied to just under and around the nose, would help to cancel out the stench of decaying, rotten flesh, and she lathered it on liberally. In her short time at RPD she’d learned that Poe Dameron wasn’t one to complain, so the fact that he’d asked for it was a sign that they’d be needing it. Desperately. 

The cop’s face lit up as he saw them coming up towards where he’d stationed himself at the door. Finn tossed him the small jar. Poe grinned. “You’re miracle workers, the both of you. You’ve come to relieve me of this lovely duty?” 

“Something like that.” Rey nodded before she looked around the property. Nothing had changed in the time since she’d lived here, and she wasn’t quite sure whether that was a good thing or not. Even the yellow police tape was familiar enough, Plutt having been more than happy to call the police on any and everyone who committed so much as the slightest infraction. From then he’d insist that either they found some way to convince him to look the other way, or he’d make their lives hell. She’d lost a neighbor that way, carted off by the RPD’s SWAT team for a planted blunt in his bedroom. He’d sail through the tox screen, but possession was a problem in itself. Plutt hadn’t even tried to contain his glee as he’d ripped through the yellow tape to go through his things before sending the rest off to the man’s family. 

She wondered, as they stepped up to the door, if she’d feel any remorse while staring at his body, or if she’d just . . . settle. If she’d had the money to do it she’d have gambled on the latter. 

“You wanna walk us through the scene first?” Finn asked with a smile that Poe had yet to say no to. Dead body stinking up a room or not, there wasn’t much that Finn couldn’t get away with asking for when Poe was involved. 

Said officer directed a crooked smile in Finn’s direction and rolled his eyes. “Only ‘cause I know you’d be useless without me, rook. C’mon. This is gonna mean I have to do paperwork and I wanna get started on that ASAP.” 

Right. Start on paperwork. Rey rolled her eyes before she and Finn shared a smile between the two of them, and Poe offered up the rub to the pair of them. “You’ll want it.” He grimaced. “Guy hasn’t been seen for a week and a half? The way he’s smelling he’s been here the whole time. Man is ripe.” 

Rey tried not to grimace. Great. Plutt had reeked of too strong cologne and a heavy-hitting body odor while alive, and now eau de Dead Landlord was going to set into her clothes until she could chuck them in the wash. Or burn them. “Way ahead of you, Dameron. You didn't just call Finn and I here to check out how great Finn’s ass looks in his jeans. We had a feeling we’d be seeing the body.” She winked.

Finn flushed as Poe barked out a laugh. 

 

Poe was right about the smell, Rey had to say, as they entered the small apartment she’d hoped to never find herself in once again. Everything was right where her memory said it would be, the exceptionally large television placed on the southernmost wall, a stained couch just feet in front of it. Wrappers and trash littered the blood stained seats, the arcing patterns consistent with the theory that he’d been killed here. Her eyes sought out the files she’d seen him pull from his computer desk drawers, the bottom drawer holding information concerning current tenants, while she guessed that the other ones were kept in the separate filing cabinet just beside the computer. Or thrown out altogether. They might’ve been filed on his computer, but something told her that it was unlikely he’d ever taken the time to fill them all out when he did the bare minimum with the physical ones. When she’d first moved it’d been odd to her that he conducted all the official apartment business from his own home. When he’d tried to coerce her into trading services in lieu of full rent, however, she’d understood. 

She moved out the next day, having told him where he could stick his proposal. Why she hadn’t ever brought it up to her superiors, that he was illegally soliciting sexual favors instead, and likely attempting to take advantage of more than just her, had stuck in her craw when it’d happened. Still she’d never said anything to Leia. 

If she had she wouldn’t have been allowed to come to investigate the scene. They’d have known she and Plutt had a history, and a negative one would get her reassigned in half a heartbeat for fear of undue bias in the case. No way in hell was she leaving this alone. 

Poe walked Finn through the scene as he’d come to find it while Rey paced around the room, certain that if she lingered anywhere they’d figure out that this wasn’t the first time she’d been here. Her attention was caught as the other officers who’d been called pulled the old files from a separate cabinet, but let them take them for fear of seeming as though she knew too much about the place. Maybe she was making a huge mistake, not saying anything, and her stomach clenched as they left without the most recent files. At least this way she figured they wouldn’t have her file with the others, so she wouldn’t have to steal it back. Because  _ that  _ wouldn’t get her fired, or anything. 

“You think Plutt’s death is connected to the other two in the past couple weeks, then?” Poe was asking Finn quietly. Finn’s lips were pressed tight together in a solid line as he stared down at Plutt’s body. 

“Not too sure, yet. Depends on whether we can figure out if Plutt is the one that connects them all, or if he’s just another random. If he’s even been killed by the same guy.”

That strange emptiness that she’d anticipated came to settle in her gut as she stared at the scene. Rey crouched down and examined the thick lines of chafed, raw skin on the man’s wrists that indicated they’d been bound, though Plutt had struggled against them. Any ligature markings had vanished in the process of him struggling so hard that he’d broken the skin, but there were no signs of bindings or fibers left on the threadbare berber carpet. 

“You didn’t happen to find any rope or bindings, did you Poe?” she asked, motioning for the forensic team to take a picture of Plutt’s thick wrists, looking up at the officer. 

Poe shook his head, looking confused. “No, ‘fraid not.” 

She frowned and looked up around the room again, trying to find something that she’d missed before. Given the way the marks had been angled on his wrists she was betting he’d been tied up, and that would fit with the blood spatterings on the couch just to the right of the body, but she couldn’t find a seat either. He would’ve had to have been propped up. 

A loud yipping sound came from the other side of the apartment, and collectively everyone in the room turned their eyes to see one Wexley, one of the officers who’d been called, stepping out with a small, rail-thin corgi, its white fur spattered with orange blotches, its dark eyes petrified as it stared at all the people in the room. Poe was there in an instant, mouth open and face unbelieving, and the corgi wriggled in its captors arms. 

“BB-8? I thought I’d lost you!” he pried the dog out of the other officer’s arms and laughed as the dog licked all over his face, whining and practically shaking out of its skin. Rey’s brow furrowed. 

“Where’d you find it?” she asked the officer who’d brought the pup out. 

“Back room, there wasn’t anything else, but there was evidence that the dog was being fed recently. It couldn’t have survived for that long without food and water.” Wexley beckoned her to follow. True to what he’d said the dog had been kept in the bathroom of the apartment, a nearly empty bowl of water and a plate that looked like it’d once held some sort of food on it. The vapo-rub must’ve been wearing off given the stench that the room was giving off, BB-8 not having had anyone to take it outside, but at least it’d been fed. 

Either the person who’d done this had an accomplice with a conscience, or this wasn’t going to be as cut and dried as she’d thought. Why leave the dog, or come back and feed it, if you’d just killed its owner? How long had it been going on, and how long was it going to continue if they hadn’t found the body? 

“We’ll need to station someone outside the apartment complex for the next few days. See whether or not our perp comes back to feed the dog,” Rey found herself saying as she stepped back out of the room. “I doubt it. Once he or she sees the tape they’ll figure it’s not worth it, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

She’d never get used to that. Detective or not, she was still Rey, small Rey from the foster care system, who’d sprung up like a weed and had done everything in her power to escape the shithole she’d been born into. She flashed the man a quick, grateful smile, before heading back out to finish examining the body. Finn was taking a walk around, too, though he looked up when Rey entered once again. 

“So, BB-8 was being taken care of?” 

“Yeah, for some time I’m guessing.” 

“What kind of a killer comes back to take care of your dog, without actually taking your dog?” Finn looked as confused as Rey felt, chewing on the inside of his cheek and stopping the forensics team as they tilted Plutt on his side. Both detectives knelt down, and Finn stretched out to point at a long stretching brand burned into the back of Plutt’s neck. “Think that officially makes this our perp’s third kill.” 

Rey’s stomach twisted. 


	2. Fear of Falling Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: description of violence/injury to Unkar Plutt's body, which may be a little graphic.   
> Also, I may have taken artistic liberties with just what it is that forensics can detect/determine from a body . . . again, all of my knowledge comes from what I've seen played out on TV.   
> Thanks for reading!

Two identified bodies, and now a third in the last month and a half, now with one particular symbol to tie them all together. Rey ran a hand down her face, staring at the gruesome pictures from the scene that stared up at her from her desk. Her stomach knotted, but it wasn’t from the carnage. 

She  _ wanted  _ this case, had fought to get into homicide for cases like this. She was all about the exploration of that delicate grey area of people who were pretty terrible and had terrible things happen to them. In the strangest way it had always reassured her that, no matter what happened, shit would come around to bite everyone in the ass. Life was never so easily cut and dried as the fictitious world made it out to be, and the exploration of the tricky bits helped her come grips with her own uncertainty in life. Granted, death could be seen as a little extreme, but how she’d been treated by Plutt, and how she’d seen him go about treating others?

They’d have to pry her away from this case, and even then she couldn’t guarantee she’d be able to walk away completely. 

She shifted the pictures, sliding them side by side on her desk, taking in the blood splatters that had covered the walls where he’d been killed. Forensics was still at the scene, sending back samples and testing the fibers found at the apartment, but it might’ve been some time before they came up with anything she could use. The man, or woman, who’d done this could’ve been looking for their next victim, or already have them. She bit on the inside of her cheek. The other two murders had been within a week of one another, though as with this one there’d been some time between when it had happened and when they’d been found. Without any sort of connection between them it made predicting the next target difficult to say the least. Impossible at worst. 

The next picture she picked out was of Plutt’s split open stomach. The bills that his gullet had been stuffed with had been packed away for evidence, allowing her a better look at the knife work that’d nearly cleaved the portly man in two. The skin had the look of being chewed on, almost, the edges jagged. Cut with something serrated, she was guessing, and by someone strong. Physically, or willfully, she had no idea, but it was impressive from an objective point of view. After all, Plutt had given them plenty to work with, and it would’ve taken quite a lot to saw through that much tissue. His organs had been removed, and while the exterior cuts were sadistic, borderline amateur, these had been done well. Really well, like he’d had a YouTube tutorial telling him how to remove the intestines and stomach without making a huge mess. 

The resounding question, she supposed, was what had been done with the missing organs? 

The cross, now that was something she could go off on. It was long enough to run from the base of his hair to the start of his spine, and while the top three ends were rounded off, the latter was pointed. Jagged, almost. The other two victims had had them carved into their skin, the symbol on the back of their necks the same as Plutt’s, and linked the two without a thought. But this brand? They were stepping up their game. Fancier tools, and all that. It seemed reasonable that Plutt was the first test. 

Rey sipped at the lukewarm coffee before setting it back onto the corner of her desk, staring at the three pictures taken of the mark. The one on Plutt’s neck was muddied, like the killer hadn’t quite gotten the hang of using the brand yet, and while she was about ninety percent positive Plutt’s was applied while he was still alive, the post mortem report on the past two had shown that the mark had been given after death. 

So was Plutt’s suffering meant to be greater? She was waiting to hear whether or not he’d been alive when he’d been butchered, inclined to believe so, so what had Plutt ever done to their perp? 

The brand would’ve been a recent aquisition, and they could start there, trying to figure out just where it might’ve been sold from and looking to get tapes or statements about whomever bought it. She picked up the picture from her desk and stared more closely at it, holding it up against the light so that the picture was brightened considerably. Three smudges were in place near the very top, center, and bottom of the cross, but she couldn’t quite make out just what it was they said. Some kind of Bible verse? Were they looking at religious motivation? A sword might’ve fit, with God and deity imagery. 

‘ _Uriel with his flaming sword to guard Eden from Adam and Eve._ ’

She stood to put the pictures on the board they’d cleaned off for this, lining them up side by side so she could examine them without having to hunch over her desk the whole while. It wasn’t her proudest moment that she didn’t even realize someone was behind her until she stepped back and onto their toes. She gave a quiet hip of shock as she turned to see Ben Solo smiling down at her. Smiling. Last time she’d seen him he’d glowered up at her from the flat of his back, Rey having handed him his ass on a platter in front of a half dozen of RPD’s officers in training. 

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Ben said, his lips twisted in a grin that said, all too clearly, that he was pleased with it either way. Rey felt her cheeks grow warm. “Congrats on the promotion. Chief said it was pretty recent.”

She nodded, murmuring her thanks. Right, of course he’d be there with his mother being the head of the Force and all. “Still getting my feet about me and all,” she said as an excuse. 

Finding her feet? Getting her wits about her? Fuck, she was acting like an idiot but the bastard made her pulse spike and every instinct in her body scream. Not that she could decipher what it was yelling at her to do, of course, but all the same he set her on edge. 

The heat in her face crescendoed magnificently as she gave him a quick once over and caught him doing the exact same thing. “How’re you liking the First Order?”

He grinned at the name, as though he hadn’t expected her to know it. Technically, after all, they were the RPD’s SWAT team, but the colloquial name for them had garnered a greater, more volatile public response. They responded to Chief Organa, of course, but public policy and pressure tended to dictate just how often they were called in, so they saw their fair share of action. It’d been Ben Solo--prodigal son of Leia Organa-Solo and his infamous father, Han Solo--who’d searched her neighbor’s apartment so  _ forcefully  _ it’d rattled her teeth from next door. 

“I like it well enough. It’s exciting, none of this waiting around business, though you’re getting your fair share of interesting goings on.” He nodded towards the pictures she’d put up.

Her mind turned again to the board, the pictures available for the whole precinct to see, and she wondered if this wasn’t a mistake. Ben’s gaze followed a similar pattern, and he drew closer to the board to get a good look at what they had. She bit her tongue to keep from telling him to back off. If she hadn’t wanted people to see them and bounce their ideas off of her, why in the hell had she bothered to put them up? 

“This is your first case? Lucky you.” 

She gave a soft hum, neither denying nor confirming, as she tried to pull his attention back. “Were you here to see the Chief? I think Finn’s in there now--.” 

“Came and saw her already.” He shot her a distracted grin. “For being RPD’s finest, you’ve sure got a lot of work to do on your observation skills.” 

Rey bristled. What the fuck was  _ that  _ supposed to insinuate? She posted a smile on her face, painful though it was. “Funny, I thought the same thing, but the Chief seemed to think I’d do well, so.” She left it open ended with a shrug. Excuse him. She had more important things to do than focus solely on his comings and goings. She watched his shoulders tense up at the dig but he didn’t have a retort of his own to silence her with. She’d take that as a victory, again. 

“So, what is it I can help you with, Solo?” she asked, trying to get his attention again as she folded her arms just under her breasts, trying to give herself the appearance of being tougher than she looked. Not that he needed much of a reminder of what she could do, but it, admittedly, made her feel better.

His attention turned and he smiled as he turned away from the carnage on the board. “I came to see you, actually.” 

Her? “Why me?” She was a nobody, or at least had been. That there was a Detective in front of her name didn’t change all that much until she managed to bring someone in. It was only a word up until that point. 

“Wanted to ask you if you’d want to come to drinks tonight? Celebrate you getting your promotion and all that.” 

She blinked twice in quick succession, unsure that she’d heard him correctly. He was inviting her out? To drinks? What had happened to the man who’d all but spit in her face with how angry she was after she’d beaten him, who’d gotten up in her space and tried to intimidate her just because he stood an extra half a foot above her? Even now he towered over her, but it didn’t bother her as it had before, now that he wasn’t throwing his weight around, but that didn’t explain why he was inviting her out. 

“My promotion was a couple months ago.” 

He shrugged. “So? You act like it’s not an excuse to go drinking.” He leaned back and against her desk, long fingers wrapping around the edge. “Look, it’s just an invitation. There are a few of us going out, and I thought I’d extend it to you. If you wanted. Might help take the edge off. Han always said it helped him.” 

There was something in the way he mentioned his father that twisted his face, his eyes darkening at having brought him up, but the next moment it was gone. From her desk her phone rang, the number for forensics showing up on the other end. She hastened to grab it, but he got to it first, handing it over. 

“Think about it. We’ll be at the Cantina on Takodana, off of Western. Nine o’clock.”

Her fingers burned where his brushed up against hers, but she didn’t say anything as her thumb swiped over the unlock button and lifted the phone up to her ear. “Tell me you’ve got something.” 

Ben saw his way out without stopping to speak to anyone else, that she noticed. 

 

\--

 

_ Plutt spluttered his log on for his computer and the server without any hesitation, hoping it would make whatever sort of judgement this man decided to mete out for him easier. If he was willing to cooperate, there was no need for him to make good on his promise to make Unkar scream, was there? As his captor’s fingers tapped at the old, sticky keys of the keyboard, Plutt worked to undo the bindings, trying to loosen them. Every time he thought he was sure he was making some sort of progress, the rope would catch on itself, tightening further over his wrists. The added pressure on the rubbed raw skin made him hiss between his teeth, but he still worked at undoing them anyway. It didn’t matter if he had to work himself down to the bone he was not going to die like this.  _

_ “You won’t get out.” The man’s dark voice stopped Plutt right in the middle of trying to pull his wrists apart, to try and break the material to at least give him two working, separate hands again. “It’s a special sort of rope. You can’t do it.”  _

_ “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Plutt stammered, but he struggled all the harder. The last thing he wanted to know was why he wouldn’t be able to get out, and just what would happen because of it. But by god, he hadn’t even seen his captor turn around to look at him. No way he could tell based on sound alone. Not with the dog barking in the bathroom where he’d been locked up.  _

_ “Don’t play dumb with me.”  _

_ Plutt looked up at the darkening tone of voice the man was using, his blood running cold in his veins as the man looked back. He was removing a portable drive from the tower, presumably with whatever information he’d needed, while the screen was going black and blank. Wiped. Plutt swallowed bile as it rose in his throat, threatening to choke him, and watched the man stand up and tower over him. The knife was back between his fingers, and this time it cut off the shirt Plutt was wearing, stripping him and throwing it to the floor, before the very tip was pressed against the center of his rib cage. The blade bit into his skin, and Plutt started to hyperventilate.  _

_ “Not--not playing dumb,” he said quickly, staring up and trying to make out what he looked like. This had to be a set up, right? Some sort of sick joke to make him be a better person? He hoped, but something back in his head was telling him not to count on it.  _

 

\--

 

To Rey’s utter amazement no one had said anything about her file being in with all the others. Forensics came back with minimal information regarding how Plutt’s hands were bound, not having found any fibers on his body that looked specifically  as though they’d come from rope. The blood splatter pattern, they did confirm, had come from him being raised off the ground, and alive when the damage had been inflicted. “Whoever it is you’re looking for, he’s strong. Plutt was struggling the whole while, see where it deviates?” Caluan Ematt pointed out the sharp, particularly nasty jag in the line running down the dead man’s body. Finn pursed his lips and caught Rey’s gaze. Great. 

“And given the incline of his neck, it’s more than likely your guy is tall, too.” 

Rey arched a brow. “Couldn’t he simply have been looking up at the wall as he was dying?” she asked, taking a quick turn around the body to try and make out the direction that the wound was made in. It did look as though it was traveling up, the gouge at the base of Plutt’s stomach looking as though it’d had a blade twisted, as though to give it more room, before it was yanked upwards. Her stomach clenched, trying not to think of the fierce pain that Plutt had gone through before he’d died. Blood loss, and severe trauma to his internal organs, had been the official cause of death. The latter they were guessing at, seeing as his intestines and stomach were missing, but the knife cuts that’d been made to the other organs, the gallbladder, kidney, liver, all led to the same conclusion. 

Caluan shook his head. “The eyeline would’ve been someone roughly six feet in height. He was focused on them until he died. Whether that was intentional, or he was made to, that we can’t say.” 

So, six feet, strong. Likely with anger issues. “You think you’ve got a gender?” Rey asked, noting that he’d called their perp a “he” before. “Something we missed?” 

Caluan shrugged. “Unless you know any Amazons who he screwed over. I'm guessing male. Not that it’s impossible for the perp to have been a woman but my money's on a man. The sheer upper arm strength, coupled with height and the ferocity of the attack?” 

“You’ve never seen Rey deadlift at the gym then,” Finn teased. “Women are just as dangerous.” 

“Oh there’s no denying. But she’s missing the height element.” 

Rey spared Finn a quick glance, a nod of gratitude, bemused though it might’ve been. She wasn’t going to rule anything out until they looked through his files to figure out a potential attacker from the list, one who might’ve had connections to the other two found dead. There had to be something there. Right? No way was this just a copycat when they hadn’t even released the MOD or any of the details about the other bodies. 

“And the mark on his neck?” Finn asked. “The ones in the past were carved into the skin. This one was branded.”

“Not well,” Caluan admitted. “It was applied for too long, which is why the brand is muddled, and the heat was too great. They probably just received it, given that it would’ve had to be a custom order. Though this could’ve been done with any stainless steel cross, there are letters in the body of it. See?” He turned the body over to allow them a look at the scar. From the side table, he grabbed a flashlight and stretched the skin to better draw out the letters. 

KoR, the K starting at the very head of the cross, the small o at the center, and the R just centimeters from the pointed tip of the cross. 

Rey gripped the edge of the table, her heart pounding in her ears as she felt the blood leave her face. “The Knights of Ren,” she muttered, drawing the attention of both Caluan and Finn, the latter who looked taken aback. 

“Who?” 

“It was an old story, sort of a myth, I guess.” Especially around the Outer Rim. The Knights of Ren were supposedly a gang, but more like a brotherhood, of men who worked just under whichever sort of government suited them, a sort of band of bounty killers and mercenaries who knew the streets well enough to evade detection. It’d been a stupid legend that she’d heard from one of the girls in the building who’d sworn she’d dated one for a week before she left him when she’d come home to see him dismembering a man in their apartment. No one had believed her but the name still stuck out in Rey’s mind. She’d always thought it was just their city’s version of Jack the Ripper, a string of deaths chalked up to a larger than life figure, or group of them, that could never be tied back and proven so they just added to the mythos of the place. After all, they were reported to have seen themselves as doing the work of what the government wouldn’t, serving their interests first and those of whomever could offer them protection second. 

“We’re going to want to talk to the people who lived in the area,” she said as she looked at Finn. “It’s an urban myth that goes through the Outer Rim. If we’re looking for someone who’s taken an interest in what the Knights of Ren have done, and thinks they can continue it? My money’s that they’ll come from there.” 


	3. Upside Down . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this only took five thousand years to get finished. Sorry about the wait between chapters! I'm afraid to say there will probably be a bit of that in between updates, given that things are starting to pick up at work and (per the norm) I took on a lot to do. Which is all good! I love writing this, but there might be some decent length pauses between chapters.  
> Hope you enjoy it, and that it's worth the wait! Thanks for reading and commenting!

Doing paperwork all day was not what Rey exactly called her idea of a good time, not even in the slightest. It was part of the job, sure, but the stacks that Finn had piled on the both of their desks was looking a more daunting task than graduating from the academy. Her face scrunched in disgust. 

“I’ll buy you a donut if you do my part of the work, too. Hell, I’ll go all out and buy you a dozen,” she offered with a wide grin. “You and Poe can take it home and make a night of it. Get freaky looking at the people they might have in common.” 

Finn snorted, rolling his eyes before his gaze settled on her. “We’re not dating.” 

“You might as well be the way you two look at one another.” She took a stack and rifled through it, grimacing. “Ugh. Two dozen?”

“Nope.”

“Even if they’re your favorite from the little shop you love so much, the kind with the shaved chocolate and--.”

He put down the papers he was reading to glare at her, though the look lacked any real heat behind it. “You keep going on and I’m gonna make you buy me some just because you brought it up.” 

She pouted, and he looked back at the papers in front of him, leaving her to sigh heavily and go through her own stack again. She wanted to be out  _ there _ , looking for the guy that did this, not stuck inside hypothesizing about who it could’ve been. Realistically, she understood why it was important. Get to know the vic, get to know everyone you possibly can around him, work on connecting the dots from there. They’d done the same thing with the past two victims, but hadn’t come up with anything to connect them, which meant that this case was going to hopefully provide them with some sort of insight. There had to be someone in common between each of them, after all. While random killings could’ve been possible, depending on what kind of person they were looking at, it was highly unlikely that they would’ve made Plutt’s death so personal. Stuffing his body cavity with money? They were looking for a tenant who’d been screwed over by Plutt financially. Someone familiar with the lore of the Knights of Ren, and who’d also happened to know a banker from Coruscant, and a senior member of the National Foster Care and Adoption agency. The banker might not have been all that far of a leap, but the woman working with foster kids? Rey’s heart ached, more than familiar with the agency. Her claims to look at her own birth parents records, what little information that was available for her to find, had been denied. Apparently, despite her job being in the government, she didn’t know the right people to get those files released and made public. 

The woman, a Ms. Mela Almec, had been the second victim and was tortured and had died through exsanguination. As with Plutt her wrists had been bound and she had knife cuts, some thick, some shallow, all along her body, each made at varying points of her having bled out. Though her clothes had been removed there hadn’t been any sign of sexual force or action. Her killer had wanted her to suffer, just as Plutt had, and the more Rey thought about it the more similar the knife cuts looked, save that Plutt’s were done out of anger, and Almec’s were far more well thought out. Putting down her file on Emma Deran, she opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out the pictures that had been taken of Almec’s death, surveying them carefully. Yes. That same serrated, almost gnawed on edge to the skin, was as close to the ones that had sliced Plutt open as Rey was sure she’d find. She stood to tack the picture right next to the one of Plutt’s spread wide body, but those two were the only ones she could compare. 

Tomas Bast had been suspended under armpits as his throat was stuffed with what had once been hot coals given the blisters they’d found on the skin. The only cut on his body was the one on the back of the neck, same as Almec and similar to Plutt’s, but with those they were too far to tell. 

Hell, it could’ve been a religious killing with the first time, and Plutt was part of a different killer’s plan. She hoped not. The last thing she wanted was warring serial killers looking to make the next biggest movie. Their city was huge, but they couldn’t house that many insane people, could they?

Aside from the cuts on the neck Rey had, at first, assumed that their killer was going to be sticking to a specific area, but with Plutt that theory was completely out the window, the same with the thought that he was targeting wealthy, well to do people with a ton of influence and money. Even that had been grasping at straws at best, all of this assuming they were the same person. 

Now they might as well start at ground zero, she thought as she flipped back to Emma Deran, not finding anything that was setting off any red lights. She was doing her best not to think about the fact that her own file could’ve been in with the rest, that it could be in Finn’s pile and she wouldn’t know about it until he found it. Or, someone had already taken it out and shown it to Chief Organa, who was then waiting for Rey to make her affiliation and history with Plutt known. 

Did she dare bite the bullet and go in to confess it to her right then, or pray that she got to it before anyone else and . . . possibly obstruct justice by removing it from the others? Plutt’s hard drive had been wiped, though it’d been done by going about through the passwords and legitimate, manual way, rather than forcibly so, so there was little way of telling whether or not Plutt hadn’t deleted everything himself, or if it had been their perp. 

Knowing Plutt, she wouldn’t have put it past him to have deleted everything, and with the amount of money that they’d found him stuffed with he could’ve been preparing to cut it and run. 

Too many variables, not near enough concrete, usable data. It was beginning to make her head hurt. She took a sip of her coffee as Finn looked up and offered up a file for her to look at. “Zach Badilla. Got the height, and he was thrown out by Plutt because he wasn’t able to pay rent, according to the file.” 

As she accepted the file Finn already clacked on his keyboard, putting the name in so they could search for any priors, cursing when he didn’t find any. “Nothing. He’s not in the system.” 

A minor inconvenience, Rey supposed, though she figured it might weaken their case against bringing him in. Didn’t mean they couldn’t go to him. A few taps on her own keyboard and his Facebook profile came up. Really? Who didn’t set it to private now? Was Badilla looking for trouble?

“He works at that small coffee shop just off of Naboo Plaza, right between Petco and the Gungan Specialty Grocery? And according to about fourteen minutes ago, when he updated his status, he said he was bored and business was slow.” Rey rolled her eyes. Be careful what you wish for. She was already closing out of the window and standing up. She fit her standard issue G-22 back in place, while her own personal handgun, a lightweight Saber 9mm, was waiting for her back in her car. They weren’t exactly going in looking to intimidate, not just yet, so there would be no need to carry both of them with her. Besides, Finn was often more than enough to force whoever it was they were talking to to take her seriously. She might not have been all that big, or intimidating, but Finn certainly could as soon as he put away his usual smiley, cheery self. 

She offered to drive, heading out to where she’d parked her Speeder, the sleek black car blending in with ease to keep from drawing too much attention. Wherever it was that the cops ended up, surely enough crowds and attention followed shortly after. As she turned the key in the ignition and felt the vehicle come to life beneath her with a purr, she wondered why that was. What was it about the mundane day to day that made neighbors, passersby, and whoever else was in the vicinity of the police all come around to gawk and watch? Were they all, as a species, so hungry for news, intrigue, a break in the monotony of the every day that they were willing to seek out alternative methods of entertainment? When had it stopped being detrimental to interfere or even be involved with the police, that the populace now actively sought it out? 

 

\--

 

_ He saw red as he looked at the file Plutt had on the girl, the asterisk put next to her name the same as the ones who’d reported that the landlord had attempted to feel up or take advantage of. There’d only been three who they’d been able to track down at the offices, two who’d come to confess that the man had taken them aside, touched them inappropriately, and promised them that their rent would be taken care of so long as they played ball. Without a firm foundation, and with Plutt having paid off the right people, he’d never so much as been subpoenaed about the offenses. Now, looking at the listed tenants, past and present, there were dozens, though her name alone stood out in his mind. He gnashed his teeth together, hearing the fat lummox straining at the bindings. He snarled that he wouldn’t be able to get out of them, blocking out Plutt’s response as best he could as his fear stained the air. He copied the files that he wanted to over to the Sandisk USB stuck in the tower before looking back to his captive. In the background the hard drive began to erase itself. Plutt groaned.  _

_ “The asterisks by the girls names. What do they mean?”  _

_ Plutt didn’t answer, and that same stench of fear, the one that reeked of piss and bad decisions made late in the night, pervaded the air between them.  _

_ Standing, he crossed over to the bound man and the knife came back out, dragging down the length of Plutt’s shirt, slicing it open and nicking the skin when he wasn’t careful to pull back enough. Plutt shouted, yelling for help, but a quick knock with his fists to the right temples of the landlord’s head silenced him without dulling his senses too much.  _

_ “Tell me. What. They mean.”  _

_ “They-they’re girls. Girls who I thought would be easy to take advantage of. I’m only human, you have to understand. And I would help them out when they couldn’t make rent.” The last word came out like a whine and it made his heart pound in his ears. He tasted the metallic tang of fury on his tongue as he positioned the blade just under Plutt’s stretched navel, blood already dripping down the curve of his substantial gut. He dug the point into the skin enough to make Plutt shout.  No matter; there wasn't a tenant on either side of him or above him for two floors above or two to either side. His apartment, of course, was well insulated, too.  _

_ He bit at his next words, demanding the truth. “What girls?” _

 

\--

 

They decided to go in quiet, in the end. It wasn’t as if they had anything to charge him with, so there was no point in making him feel as though there was. It would only make him defensive, and they needed him to want to cooperate with them. At least at first. Finn would ask the questions and Rey would keep a close eye on him. 

True to Badilla’s word, business was dead slow, and Rey very nearly felt bad for him for having to be at work for such a period of time without anything to do. He was standing behind the counter, sipping something from a bright pink mug, when the pair of them walked in and he went stiff. Setting down his drink, he wiped his mouth before smiling and heading to the cash register. 

“Hi there, welcome to Coffee Corps. What can I get started for you?” 

The words sounded dull and rehearsed, but Rey was dying for something other than the petrol they called coffee at work, so ordered a skinny macchiato with extra caramel while Finn just hid a smirk at her sweet tooth. What? She had a thing for sugar, and now that she could afford it she liked to indulge! 

“Mr. Badilla, do you have a minute to talk to us, actually?” Finn asked after he'd made the drink and slid it to Rey, who accepted it with a polite smile. Finn flashed his badge, and Zach’s face went white. 

“Uh, yeah. Let me get my manager.”

“Much obliged,” Finn said with a smile as Rey kept her eye on where the backdoor ought to be. She wasn’t in the mood for running someone down, but it'd at least make all their days interesting. It didn’t come to that, at least, and as his manager came out, Zach Badilla came out from the other side of the bar to talk. He easily cleared six feet tall, well tanned skin showing that he spent most of his time outside, with short brown black hair and dark brown eyes that were wide with an anxious energy Rey could feel thrumming off of him. Even though he was taller than the pair of them he still seemed to shrink in their presence, even when Finn offered him his kindest smile and a seat away from the coffee bar. 

“So, what can I help you two with?” Zach asked as he looked between them. 

“We were wondering about your involvement with Unkar Plutt. We have it on record that you used to live at the apartments he managed and we’re looking for a little more information.” Finn said as Rey sipped at her drink, watching his face twist at the name. The anxiety of before began to flicker as Zach sat forward in his seat. 

When he spoke it was to Rey at first. “Did he finally get taken in?” 

Finn’s eyebrows rose. “What do you mean?”

Zach’s thin lips twisted in a scowl.  “Plutt was a fucking criminal. He’d raise rent without giving any notice, and if you couldn’t pay it he’d threaten to call the cops on you. No offense, but you guys were his usual go to. He’d get one of his lackeys down to scare you straight into paying, or else he’d take some of your shit instead. I’m a student--I can’t afford to pay fifty bucks extra a month without any reason behind it. Don’t even get me started on trying to get anything fixed in those shitboxes.” 

Rey’s lips twisted, pursing as she remembered the way her water had stayed tepid, if not downright freezing, in the winter, and now there’d been nothing else to do about it because she wasn’t going to invite Plutt to her place to look at it. “So the feeling’s pretty mutual, then. About Plutt where you live.” 

He nodded, finding his strength. “I’ll say. Man’s a creep, too. He just . . . watches you. Everyone. It’s weird. So what’s this about, then? If you need someone to testify I’m your guy.” His gaze found Rey’s and he smiled, as though sharing something secret with her. 

Rey wished it was that simple. She looked to Finn, who gave a sigh as he folded his fingers together. “Where were you between the dates of September 5th through the 9th.” They’d timed it at about a week and a half ago, roughly, given the rate of Plutt’s body decay, and given that no one had seen anything happen that’d put it on a weekday, likely during the morning or late, late at night. Given that he lived near mostly college kids, morning or early afternoon was the safest bet.

Now Zach looked perplexed. He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, looking at the days on his calender, before saying: “Working, 6am to 1pm each day, then class on Monday and Wednesday from 2pm to 5, then home, and Tuesdays and Thursdays from 3 to 7. Why?” He turned his phone over to them, clearly wanting them to check it out, verify it, and Rey’s eyes skimmed the sources. 

“Got a friend we can contact about it? A professor we can email and a paystub to confirm you worked those hours?” 

He squirmed in his seat, clearly seeing where it was going. “Are you going to tell me what happened? Should I even be talking to you right now?” 

“Unkar Plutt is dead,” Finn said, finally and Rey watched the realization dawn on Zach’s face, the joy at realizing the bastard was gone, then the horror as the reality of it set in. 

“You think I did it.” 

“If your alibis check out then you don’t have to worry about it. Right now we’re just interviewing, trying to get a good handle on the situation,” Finn assured him. “Trying to figure out what kind of guy he was.” 

“But . . . surely your partner told you that. She used to live there. I recognized you--you lived in building C, across from Jason and Isaac.” 

And just like that Rey’s heart dropped. Finn, at least, had the good sense not to say anything about it, though she felt him tensing up at her side. “We’re looking for alternative opinions. Can’t be too biased. You understand.” 

“Right, right. Well, I’ll get you that paystub, and I’ll have my manager talk to you to vouch for me.” He stood slowly, taking heart from the fact that they didn’t stop him, and offered a bitter smile down to Rey. “You know he deserved it. Whoever did this to him--they did the right thing.” 

She bit her tongue to keep from warning him against saying that too loudly. He walked back to the coffee bar, heading to the back of the building, and once he’d vanished from sight Finn leaned over to Rey. “When the hell were you gonna tell me  _ that _ , Rey?” 

“Don’t tell Chief,” she muttered, not meeting his gaze as she bit her tongue. Her heart sank. She ought to have been outright about it, she knew it from the get go, but now she couldn’t be pulled from the case, couldn’t imagine stepping down--. 

“Don’t tell--are you crazy? You could get us both fucking fired.” 

“Finn?” She finally looked at him, and she knew her eyes were bright, her gaze holding his and keeping him silent. “Don’t tell the Chief. Please.” 


	4. . . . With A Perfect View

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! We earn the 'E' rating in this chapter, for violence and explicit sexual situations, both of which happen after the first page break.   
> Hope you enjoy reading, thank you all so much for all the support for this fic! Oh my goodness, you're seriously all wonderful people.

Badilla’s alibi cleared, his manager confirming that he’d worked the whole week without complaint, leaving Rey to follow a disgruntled Finn outside. His shoulders hunched in the chilly air, his eyes narrowing as the wind picked up. He didn’t even so much as look at her until they’d gotten back and closed the door to Rey’s car. Her tongue felt thick and useless in her mouth, not so sure how she was going to talk him out of not talking to the Chief about it when he had a damn point about them both getting fired. She’d only just gotten promoted, too. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he finally asked, and she could all but feel the anger in those few words alone. 

She took her time, measuring just what it was she was going to say, how she could justify this to him. “You’d tell the Chief. She’d take me off the case. She’d think I’m too close.” 

“You know how I can tell that you are?” he bit out. “By withholding that information. From me, especially. I’m your partner.” 

“The less you know the less you have to attest to.” 

“You planning on taking this to trial?” 

“Never know.” 

He let out a noncommittal scoff, lips turned in the deepest scowl she’d seen on him since they’d met at the academy. It’d always amazed her how  _ kind  _ and calm he could be. His compassion made him look weak at first glance, the softer sides juxtaposing with the hard edges of every other recruit, but it was what made him damn good at his job. He only toughened up when he absolutely needed to, but she’d never been on the receiving end of him playing the bad guy. It never was anything that he enjoyed doing, and the ever deepening crease in his brow made her gut clench. 

“Look, no more lies, or withholding the truth, okay?” she said when he kept his silence, her eyes skirting over to look at him fully now. His jaw was set hard, his eyes skirting at nothing in particular, but he was certainly on edge. “I didn’t say anything because I never mentioned Plutt to any cop or any superior at all. It’s too late now for me to report what he tried pulling on me--what he likely got away with before and after me--and I hate that I kept quiet about it. So I’m trying to do the right thing now, but I can’t do that if I’m removed from this. Yeah?” She bit her bottom lip, hoping he understood. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him, hadn’t wanted to hurt their case, but she wasn’t going to let herself be benched. 

She tried not to watch him too closely, turning her gaze instead to look at the rapidly darkening sky. It was going to storm sometime in the near future, the clouds far too dark and thick for anything else, blotting out what there was to be seen of the already watery sun. Still, it was difficult not to sneak glances his way every so often when he was sitting so close, breathing the same air. With one easy exhalation he could so effectively end her newly beginning career and she wouldn’t blame him in the slightest. She tried not to flinch when he reached over to call dispatch and let them know that their lead was a dud and that they were heading back. 

“I want you to know that I trust you.” he started off, and her chest went tight. “But I’m going to tell Chief everything if I see you getting too involved. Got it? Nothing personal, but this is serious Rey. I know you want to do what’s right, we all do, but there are rules for a reason.” 

She chafed at the scolding but it was more than she could’ve hoped for. Her lips split in a grin as her shoulders relaxed by the smallest of movements. “Got it. Thanks, Finn.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You still owe me donuts.” 

That she could do. She picked up two dozen for work, figuring they could all use a pick up given that, even with her revelation to Finn, they were nowhere near an answer. As he munched on one of the pastries she’d specifically gotten him and she drained the remaining dregs of her drink, the mood grew more solemn. She’d had a thought that had begun to eat away at the corner of her mind as they’d been going over the pictures of the previous victims, and how they’d lined up (or didn’t line up in Tomas’ case) with Plutt’s. Now that Finn knew about her previous connection maybe it was time to test her theory on him. 

“You know I went into foster care, right?” she asked quietly, turning her car onto the connecting street of their station. Better now than never, and she’d promised him honesty. 

“Yeah, you told me. Besides, it’s public record by now, right?” he frowned. 

“It is. I tried getting the files on my case released mid-July. My request was denied. Our woman, Mela Almec, she would’ve been able to grant, or deny, requests. Wouldn’t she?”

The slow dawning of understanding on his face was what she’d been afraid of, honestly, and her grip on the wheel tightened. Yeah. Great. So that would make it two people who were possibly connected to her dead, and two out of three was more than enough reason to go to the Chief about, which didn’t bode well for what Finn had promised her. He seemed to be thinking the same as he looked over at her. “You want to keep this quiet too, don’t you?” 

“I want to double check. I want to subpoena her records and see whether or not she was involved in my decision.”

“A judge won’t allow you to do it, there’s a conflict of interests.” 

Her gaze met his, and he sighed. “Who do you want, Poe, or me?” 

And he said they weren’t dating. “If we can get it overridden based on the fact that the cuts look like they were done in a similar fashion, that they were both bound, that sounds like enough of a similarity to look through hers, and as long as I keep away from any files that are my own.” (which would be a feat and a half, given her curiosity) “Then there shouldn’t be any reason for them to overrule the request.” She hoped. They’d run it by the DA at the very least, see what he made of that before trying anything serious and looking like an idiot. 

Just their luck that Ken Statura was in, stepping out of the conference room just as Finn was on his way to deposit the donuts in the break room. Statura watched her partner go, and the other officers who weren’t busy that followed after, while Rey stepped up to him and cleared her throat. 

“Hey, Ken. I’ve got a question to run by you. Can I borrow you for a moment?” she shot him her best grin, hoping her nerves didn’t show too much through her eyes, stuffing her hands in her pockets to keep her fingers from fidgeting. 

He smiled, gaze snapping back onto her as she started speaking and indicated that she lead the way. “I’ve got a couple hours before I’m needed at the courthouse. What can I help you with?” 

Talking quickly, she walked him through her theory, the hypothesis about the similar knife cuts, the possibility that the could cross reference the people whose files were either personally handled by or denied by Almec with those who’d rented through Plutt, or were related. Asking for just a compiled list sounded easier and better, like they weren’t intending to go through the files or information that came with them, but rather it was a stepping stone. 

“We’re floundering to try and put together some sort of docket of information about our guy, or girl, but without any similarities save the style of killing it’s been difficult to look for a new target.” The thought of which made her stomach twist. If she was right in her assumption, and they were targeting people who had something to do with her? A whole lot of people needed to be warned. 

Ken didn’t say anything as she explained, thumbing through the pictures she’d given him of Plutt and Almec’s bodies at the scenes they’d been discovered in, both of which were in their homes. That was another question they had to work on; how in the hell had he gotten there, without concern or difficulty? 

Too many variables to be considered all at once, she needed something concrete to go off of. Not that Ken’s expression was all that comforting, unfortunately. He was biting his tongue and looking from the pictures to her now, before handing them back with a quiet sigh. 

“It’s a good theory, but they might reason that you need more than just a coincidence that they used a similar weapon and method of stopping their victim. Knife cuts and ligature might not be enough. There’s reasonable doubt to suggest that they’re done by the same person. If you can get an expert to testify that these marks prove that they were both killed by someone who was right handed who used a very specific blade, then that’s reason enough. But this? I don’t think it’ll fly.” 

She’d been afraid of that, and something on her face must’ve shown it given how Ken shook his head and patted her on the shoulder. “You’ll find something. I know this is your first case and you’re eager to figure it out, but right now it’s going to get tossed out, I can almost guarantee it. Find me an expert to attest that these were done by the same person and I’m all ears, I’ll work my damndest to get you that subpoena. Till then I’m sorry but I can’t help.” 

 

\--

 

_ It hadn’t been enough, and perhaps that had been what irritated him into a frenzy, into slitting the man open like a gutted fish, letting the blood and gore seep out and onto the tarp he’d carefully laid beneath to make clean up all the easier. He hadn’t worried about the splatter; those idiots who would be examining the scene needed something to go off of or else they’d be entirely useless, though he was eager to see their reaction for why there was no excessive carnage beneath where the act had happened. His hands were too jittery as he’d held the knife, and though the screams Plutt had made were satisfying as the thick man had been carved into, he wanted more. Needed more. Needed a good fight, or a good fuck. Something to take the pressure off. There was a stripper who looked almost identical to his girl, so long as she kept her face turned, and he had half a mind to visit her and see just how far he could push their “no touching” rule. See just whether or not he couldn't get her to make an exception.  _

_ In time, he promised himself, fingers turning the Sandisk over in his pocket. In time.  _

_ That damn dog wouldn’t stop whining, and his stomach turned to think about leaving it. Setting it free in this area would only guarantee some fuckwad like Plutt would pick it up again, and the creature was half starved when he'd shoved it into the bathroom to start.  _

_ He smirked, mind dragging slowly over the edges of an idea as he turned back to Plutt’s body. Turnabout was fair play. Plutt had thought only about stuffing his gullet, and now he'd stuff someone else's.  _

 

\--

 

“Testor, I’m not going out. I mean it.” Rey tried to look firmly at her roommate, though it was difficult when she was pleading at her from between the two dresses she was holding up. The first was a deep navy with a moderate neckline and helluva low back, the other black. Elegant, save the short hemline that’d show off just about everything from the crotch down. More if she wasn’t careful getting out of the car. 

Jessika pouted from where she stood, already dressed, her hair piled up in a loose bun on the top of her head. “C’mon, Rey! We both actually have a night off, we’re in the city, and dammit Rey you have a full night off we’re gonna make the most of it! I’d  _ really  _ like to not be the only girl there, too.” 

“Phasma’s going,” Rey muttered half-heartedly. Not that she’d been paying attention, of course, when she’d overheard others in the precinct talking about it. Of course not. 

“Okay, girls with a soul and a libido,” Jess amended, rolling her eyes when Rey opened her mouth to argue in Phasma’s corner. “Please, Rey? I really want to go and I think you’ll have fun if you allow yourself to. There’s nothing more to do for your case tonight, you said so yourself.” 

Rey cursed Jess’ excellent memory, gritting her teeth at the reminder. Without Ken being able to help they were stuck without another angle (save explaining that  _ she  _ might be the link between it all) they didn’t have anything else to go off of. Not yet, at least. And Rey knew that there was something she was missing but . . . maybe some time away would help. If not, all she’d be missing out on would be her half a pint of Half Baked and some reruns of Myth Busters. 

She sighed and looked up at Jess’s hopeful face. “Fine. I’ll wear the blue one. Can I borrow those silver kitten heels of yours, too?”

Jess’s face lit up like a neon display, nodding quickly. “Fuck yeah you can--perks of me as your roommate, aside from getting you out and about.” She winked and handed over the dress, which Rey took with a quiet thanks and a smile. Her enthusiasm was infectious to the extreme. 

As Rey dressed, Jessika popped back into the bathroom, finishing up the rest of her makeup as soft music filtered between the rooms. Rey was pleased to find that the dress, for the most part, fit her well enough, save the couple of inches in length around her legs that would’ve been eradicated had Jess worn it. Girl knew how to dress up her body to her greatest advantage, and as Rey slid on the kitten heels she wondered if she shouldn’t opt for something a little more intense.

Nah. Not worth it; she had to go running before work tomorrow and the last thing she wanted was aching feet keeping her from decimating her PR, or even coming close. 

Above the music, Jessika shouted down the hall: “So! I heard Ben Solo was the one who asked you to come with us tonight!” 

Great. “Where’d you hear that?” Rey demanded, looking over her jewelry before deciding not to wear any. All she had were a pair of costume pearl earrings, and a matching necklace. Way too gaudy for the simple dress, and definitely not fitting with going to the Cantina. It was better this way, though. She didn’t feel too overdone; no matter how long it had been since they’d last gone out (she was pretty sure it was when they’d graduated the academy) she wasn’t putting more work into this than absolutely necessary. No way, no how. 

“You know how talk gets. Poe saw him come in and talk to you, and Poe talks a lot.” Jess was grinning as Rey stepped into the bathroom to do up her make up quickly. “So. You should dance with him.”

Rey’s look cut her short. “Don’t push it. I’m already going out, isn’t that enough?” 

Jessika’s smile told her they’d see just what enough meant.

 

The Cantina was packed, but Rey had had a feeling it might be. The place wasn’t exactly small, and every time that Rey had been there, whether on business or in her personal time, it’d always been nearly packed to the gills, Maz an institution. She’d grown up around the same time as the Chief, so most anyone who flashed a police badge or who Maz knew worked for the Force was guaranteed a hefty discount, so the place was generally one of the safest places to drink on top of it all. As it stood, the vast majority of the cops off duty had shown up as Ben had promised, dressed down from their usual uniforms to blend in with the rest of the civilians, which never failed to throw Rey off. She grinned to see Finn speaking with his friend, Slip, in the corner, the both of them nursing beers, and she made a beeline to sit next to them, Jessika following right afterwards. Finn’s eyes widened to see Rey, his lips splitting in a grin as he and Slip stood to offer the girls seats. 

“Wow, you two look great. You come here often?” Finn teased as Slip left to get them drinks. Rey had always missed his real name, only knowing him by the nickname that Finn fondly referred to him by. 

Jessika snorted. “Whenever I can convince my roommate that socializing is a good thing, sure we do,” she winked as she leaned back in the chair, her eyes bright as she took in the room. Rey did the same, slipping off the leather jacket she’d opted on given how cold it’d been, but now it sat on the back of her chair. Something felt off, like her skin was itching from underneath, and she ran a hand over where her throat met her collar as she turned her attention to the other patrons. The First Order team was sitting near the exits, laughing uproariously at that moment so that her gaze snapped to their large cluster. A couple of other cops had joined them, but it was primarily composed of the men and women on the SWAT team and--yep. Ben Solo stared at her from where he’d sat at the very edge of it, the dark grey button up and black vest made him look like he belonged somewhere in a gangster movie rather than at a bar with the rest of them, and his gaze was . . . intense to say the least. She might as well have been asking him to piece her apart and stare at each cell of her body under a microscope. 

At least she’d found the source of the itching sensation. She couldn’t do much else other than stare back at him when their gazes collided, something between them sparking so that her heart pulsed all the faster in her ear and she was pretty sure her breath caught when he leaned ever-so slightly forward in his seat. 

“Hey, here you go.” 

Slip had returned, and his smile was kind as he offered Rey the drink she’d asked for, a simple double of scotch that she didn’t have to cringe at the thought of drinking. Her days of sipping at paint thinner-esque liquor were, blessedly, over. She thanked him with a warm smile, and though her connection with Ben had snapped that sensation of eyes staring through her skull didn’t go away. 

Didn’t the man blink? Do anything? Ever? She tried to ignore it, choosing instead to down her double of scotch and get up to get a second from the bar, grinning and waving at Maz when she got close enough. The woman was slight in stature but her booming voice more than made up for it. 

“Rey! My darling, what can I get for you?” she asked, eyes made giant from behind her coke-bottle glasses, thin lips spread into the widest grin that looked like it stretched her whole face out. Rey had gotten rather close to Maz after she’d become a regular on the Force, had always appreciated her candid nature and her willingness to stick her neck out if anyone needed it and offer advice even when you didn’t ask for it. She might as well have been Rey’s surrogate mother for as much raising of the woman as she’d done. 

“What’s Ben Solo having?” Rey asked with a sly grin. “I’ll take two of them, thanks Maz.” 

The woman winked. Equipped with two drinks in hand, she passed by where the other three were sitting, threw Jessika a smile that told her she had  _ no fucking idea  _ what she was doing, but somehow managed to stop just in front of Ben, one of the drinks extended for him. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked, trying to ignore the fact that most of his other friends were taking turns looking at her, watching as his lips spread into a smile as he accepted the drink. 

“Thought you’d never ask,” he said with a grin, pressing his lips to the corner of the glass to take a drink. She wished it didn’t make her stomach flip. He was the one sitting down and even so it felt like he had all the power. 

 

She’d had a lot to drink,  _ a lot _ , enough that her morning run was going to turn into less of a seven mile trek around the neighborhood and more into a sprint from her room to the bathroom if she didn’t take care of herself the evening before. Assuming she was cognizant enough. Ben had kept her attention the whole night, which surprising to say the least, and somewhere around last call they’d snuck out to his car. She didn’t think that being in the First Order paid poorly, but the car he’d led her to had her salivating as she thought about the engine just underneath the hood, the sheer amount of power behind every slight shift of the gas pedal, and couldn’t help herself from running her hand reverently over the edge of the car as she stepped through the door he’d opened for her. 

“You a big car fan?” he asked as he got in and started the engine. She practically moaned to feel it roar to life beneath her, fingers digging into the leather of her seat. 

“You didn’t bring me here to ask if I was big into cars,” she teased him, her cheeks warm as she looked over at him. The lot was just about empty, and he’d parked on the very edge. And they were two cops, more or less. Her eyes grew hooded as she looked him over, feeling as the tension grew between them the longer her words went without being questioned. His tongue slid against his bottom lip, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Right then. She eased her seat back ever-so slightly, allowing herself more room to angle herself closer to him, slotting her lips against his. He didn’t even act surprised, accepting it with a deep moan she felt rock her to her core. One of his hands came to cup her breast through the fabric of her dress, thumb teasing the nipple even past the fabric of her bra, adding just enough pressure to cause her back to arch into his touch. Everything within her was singing, whether with liquor or with desire she couldn't decide anymore. She was horny, in a gorgeous car that was quickly heating up without the help of the vents, and as much as he tended to get under her skin she wasn’t afraid of him anymore. Her hand leaned over to palm him through the fabric of his trousers, cupping his rapidly hardening cock as he tilted his hips closer to her hand, a gasp leaving his mouth. 

She was, perhaps, a little too well versed in undoing belts with a single hand as her second hand undid the button and zipper, allowing his cock to spring free when the fabric allowed it. The low gasp that left his lips was setting a fire to her veins as she stared down at his cock and wrapped her small hand around the base of it. He was big, bigger than she’d imagined, and with a easy, sly smile she leaned down to press her lips to the very tip of his dick. He hissed, one hand shooting out to grab at her hair and guide her closer. He wasn’t much for teasing, then. She took that as about as nice a hint that she’d get, and opened her mouth to receive the head of his cock past her lips, groaning when she was eased onto the rest of it. He let her take her time, a good thing too because tears pricked the corners of her eyes from how badly her jaw ached already, but she pushed forward. His hands tightening on her hair and on the edge of his seat. 

“Oh fuck. Oh, Rey. Fuck, that feels so good baby girl.” The words came out a reverent moan, and she grinned as she looked up at him through her lashes, watching the way his adam’s apple bobbed with every hard won swallow. She couldn’t even be bothered to give him shit about the name, the way he sounded saying it too fucking good to argue against. Red chased their way up his face, and his hair was a mess from his spare hand having run through it so many times that she couldn’t help but lean over and take him as deep into her throat as she could. It shouldn’t have excited her so much yet there they were. The heat of his gaze as he watched her worship his cock with her mouth, pressing slow, easy kisses to the underside when she pulled away before licking a long, pressured stripe up the edge so she could roll her tongue around the thick vein she found there, was damn addictive. Add to that the close proximity, the large hand on the back of her head that pushed her where he needed her, to have felt that  _ needed  _ to begin with, if she wasn’t careful it was going to go make her lose herself. 

He didn’t last all that long, she was pleased to note, sure that she’d have to unhinge her jaw if he took much longer. She’d eased her way as far down as she could at the angle, humming to send vibrations up the shaft of his dick until he’d shouted and come down her throat with a cry that about made her come from the force of it all. She hadn’t been expecting that, and spluttered on the come, swallowing as much of it down as she could but feeling some of it slide down the corners of her lips when she pulled away. He touched his fingertips to the corners of her lips where the come had started to dribble down, and offered them up for her to clean up. She did so with a quiet moan, forcing herself to hold his dark gaze the whole while. She might as well have been naked to him right then and there, and if she’d thought his gaze had been terrifyingly intense the first time that was  _ nothing  _ to the soul-baring stare he had. 

When his fingers were wet enough for his standards he slid his hand up her skirt. “Lean back for me, baby girl,” he ordered, voice resonating in her rib cage as she did, her legs spreading without him having to say much else. He slid his fingers past the thin panties she’d opted for, staring at her all the while as he eased two of those slicked fingers into her already soaked slit. She clenched around him, her mouth falling open, air becoming more and more difficult to come by. 

Her eyes began to roll up into the back of her head as his fingers began to thrust into her, and he growled low in his throat. “Don’t do that. Look at me, look at who’s gonna make you come.” 

Her toes curled, gooseflesh making every hair on her body stand on end as she followed exactly what it was he ordered. The heel of his palm ground into her clit and she  _ whimpered  _ as her cunt soaked his fingers with her come not a couple minutes later, tearing the air from her lips all the while. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d come that hard, drunk, sober, with a partner, or solo. 

Certainly never with  _ a  _ Solo before, too. 

Something dark passed his gaze as he drew his fingers up to his own lips and lapped at the arousal and come spread between them, pink tongue darting out as he cleaned them. She’d never seen something so fucking dirty in her life, and had she felt up to it she might’ve came a second time. 

Oh, she was beyond doomed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ch. also demands a huge shout-out to luvkurai who inspired in me a _serious_ need for Rey giving Kylo a blowjob in the car (CHARCOAL IS SO GOOD OMF GO READ IT!) and to avenrue, who's latest chapter of Ja'ak had me up at 2 am writing this chapter.   
>  You two are the best. All of you are the best. I love everyone in this Cantina! I'm also half asleep, so I'll probably go through it all tomorrow after work <3 but I promised avenrue a chapter so . . . here 'tis.   
> Thanks again!   
> [](http://futurerustfuture-dust.tumblr.com>visit%20me%20on%20tumblr!</a>)


	5. The Bitter Pill to Swallow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, thank you all so much for the amazing out pour of support! You are all wonderful, amazing people, and I'm so floored by the support I don't even know what to do with myself. Besides write more, I mean.   
> THANK YOU! <3 <3

He ended up driving her home after they’d finished, his smile slow and lazy as he leaned over to kiss her goodnight. She was still reeling, her head heavy and her mind slow as his lips pressed to hers and she melted against him. One of his hands spanned the back of her neck, holding her in place with ease as her right one played with the curls at the very base of his neck. She delighted in feeling him shiver at the touch, wondering just how sensitive he was and just whether or not she’d get a chance to exploit it, before they pulled away for lack of air and she excused herself before she ended up inviting him upstairs and they finished what they’d started. 

She wasn’t near drunk enough to make that happen A blow job was one thing, fucking was a whole other ballpark she wanted to explore but thought better than to. If this was a conquest thing on his end then she was going to ride this out until he fucking begged for it. It only passed her mind that it could be something more, but just as soon as the cold air hit her outside his car, her kitten heels clacking on the sidewalk as she walked away, that idea disappeared. Jessika’s car was already in the parking lot right in front of their apartment, and Rey silently hoped she’d already made her way to bed rather than waiting up to hear all the gory details from Rey’s, admittedly, drunken mouth. She didn’t think she was ready to kiss and tell. Not just yet. 

Blessedly, Jess had already passed out in her room, glass of water and pair of Advil already left out on the table for when Rey came home, along with a note telling her she hoped she had a great night. That brought a smile to Rey’s lips as the two pills passed her lips, chased by a quick swig of tepid water that chased the alcohol and the taste of Ben from her tongue. More was the pity. She shimmied out of the dress on the way to her room, the zipper having been easy enough to navigate, the heels left at the front of the entrance room, so that by the time she passed the threshold and collapsed into bed all she had to do was throw the garment on her desk chair, let her head bury into her pillow, and call it a night. 

If her dreams featured a particularly dark haired man, and left her gasping in the middle of the night with her thighs pressed tight together, she didn’t tell anyone. 

 

She missed her run, which sucked, but at least when she woke up her hangover wasn’t near as bad as it could’ve been. Jessika was still asleep by the time Rey’s alarm went off, rousing her at near nine in the morning, and though she groaned and struggled to hit the snooze button in the back of her head she knew she couldn’t sleep in any longer. There was a dull throb that’d be a pain in her ass all day if she didn’t get some coffee and water into her system, so she pulled herself from bed, threw on a hoodie she’d gotten from the nearby thrift shop that fell past her butt, and padded into the kitchen to start a fresh pot of extra strong coffee. The smell filled the small apartment and brought the quickest of a smile to her face as she leaned against the counter and rested her head against the laminate wood of their cabinets. 

If she’d known, the first time she’d met Ben Solo, that she’d go back to his car to blow him she’d have laughed and called herself crazy. Their first meeting hadn’t exactly been picture perfect, him being called forward to demonstrate a hold from behind that they would need to learn to break out of, and she’d volunteered to go first. It’d started with them exchanging quick, glancing blows, his long arms giving him a bit of an advantage over her own short ones. It’d ended up with her in the hold, unable to break out, before being dropped down to the floor so he could smirk down at her. 

She’d been spitting mad at herself as she’d risen back up to her feet, demanding a second try. She knew she could get it, having learned a great deal from having watched him, and with her pride still stinging she’d faced off against him once more. He’d been cocky, but more than that she’d gotten faster, learned his telling lurch to the left when he meant to feint, and once he’d grabbed her from behind, his arms twisting hers tightly behind her, she’d managed to break free with a simple swivel and threw him down onto the mat beneath them. The sound of his body hitting the ground hard still reverberated through her head when she was feeling particularly low and wanted to pep herself up. 

He’d glowered at her when she’d smirked down at him, pride brightening her face as she’d turned and returned to her place in line. She remembered how he’d slammed his fist into the mat and scrambled to his feet so he could storm out of the room, slamming the door behind him with a loud  _ crack _ , splitting the wood of the door with the force. 

Hardly a week later and Luke Skywalker himself was recommending her for immediate promotion to detective status. Whether it’d had anything to do with the fact he’d been watching from the gallery above, and he’d seen her throw down his previous protege, she’d never had the guts to ask. She liked to think she’d gotten it on her own merit, that he’d seen something in her that no one else had in their possession. 

That Ben had sought her out, had come to her desk to speak with her, played on the edges of her curiosity as she poured herself a mug of the coffee, blowing on it to try and cool it down quickly, rather than add an ice cube and dilute it. No way had he forgotten what she’d done, how she’d embarrassed him and had taken the spot he’d been ejected from as Luke’s once-favorite, so was this his way of getting to know her? Trying to discover what it was that made her special, to get under her skin so that she was off her game and looked like a fool in front of his mother? 

Now she was just paranoid. She scowled down at her coffee, taking a slow sip despite the scalding heat that burned her lips and tongue, but the pain centered her. She was being ridiculous. Seriously, truly ridiculous. Ben was an angry, aggressive individual with a temper shorter than a hot second and as explosive as a nuke, but was he that malicious? 

Possibly. She filed that away to think about later, when she was fully back to normal and could piece the events of last night back together in the proper order, categorize what she couldn’t remember at the moment. Paranoia wouldn’t help her, but if there was a solid base of proof that she ought to be looking at then she couldn’t exactly ignore it. 

Her phone went off before she’d even gotten halfway through her first cup of coffee, but Finn’s low, anxious voice on the other line telling her that the Chief wanted her to come in had her abandoning it in favor of dressing and disappearing out the door before Jessika could even wake up. The coffee dripping and burning on the hot plate, from when Rey forgot to replace the carafe, helped her along. 

 

\--

 

_ This next victim was making the whole chase far too simple, so much so that it very nearly took away the joy of getting to hunt the bastard down at all. The man had all but presented himself to be taken up as the next sacrifice, the next body added to the ever growing count, the next chance to push the limits of what he was capable of doing and see just how far his imagination and strength could carry him. Already the cross hung heavier around his neck, begging to melt skin and leave an impression not easily forgotten. Let them draw what connections they wanted from it, let them think him an avenging angel, or else a devil in disguise. Let them believe him to be a reoccurring nightmare that had haunted the outer edges of the city for decades before finding themselves obsolete and disappearing into the depths of the city’s history.  _

_ They weren’t anywhere near finding him, so what did he have to worry about? He had all the time in the world. The knife in his pocket burned as the old man passed him with a smug smirk, and he couldn’t help but grin to himself once the man had turned the corner. He’d wait until the man had made his enemies before he’d finish the man off for good.  _

 

\--

 

Rey liked Chief Organa, respected her more than she’d ever respected any other individual. The woman had been in charge of the Resistance Police Department for close to two decades, having risen through the ranks herself until taking the promotion that put her at the head of the organization shortly after her ten year anniversary at the department at the resignation of its previous head. Every line on her brow spoke to the countless hours she put into her work, every strand of grey hair a testament to her tenacious personality and her determination to make the world a better place one job at a time. She had a backbone of titanium and a stare that could pin you to the wall until she cut you down with her sharp tongue, and Rey had once dreamed to be her in the future, before realizing she didn’t want to live in a world where Chief Organa wasn’t the head of the RPD. 

To have her waiting, standing just behind her desk, with steel-hardened eyes and tight lips, was just about the most bone-chilling situation Rey had ever been in. Her heart slammed against her rib cage as she stepped inside, Finn already sitting down in front of the Chief, Detective Lor San Tekka just off the left of the Chief’s desk. He was retiring at the end of the year, so said the gossips, and Rey wiped her sweat-soaked hands on her sides as she looked from Tekka back to the Chief, wondering if this was his last plea against being, supposedly, forcibly put out of active service. 

“Have a seat.” The Chief’s voice brokered no second option, and Rey did so before her knees could give out. What in the hell was happening? She tried looking to Finn, who hadn’t told her much other than that the Chief wanted to speak with them, and now her stomach was twisting up into a fury of panic that made her previous bout of paranoia shrink in comparison. Rey watched, her fingers twisting in her lap, as the Chief leaned over her desk for another couple minutes and stared between the two of them. 

“Tell me the truth and tell it to me now: Rey, did you know Unkar Plutt before his case ended up on your desk?” 

Rey’s heart thudded. So, they’d found her file then. Swallowing the guilt and fear that threatened to stopper up her throat she pursed her lips and nodded. 

“I did.” 

Chief Organa let out a soft huff of air that rang of disappointment. It made Rey’s stomach clench in a way no hangover ever could. “And did you remove your file from the ones we’d taken from the scene?”

“What?” Rey looked from her to Finn, eyes wide, before turning back to Chief Organa. “No. Of course not--I wouldn’t tamper with evidence, Chief. You know that--search my things. Please.” 

“She’s lying,” Tekka said just under his breath. 

Chief Organa shot him a look that clearly told him to shut up before she looked to Rey. “We’re going to. No files about you were recovered from the scene, but Detective Tekka had a witness that came to him and said you once lived in the buildings that Plutt managed.” Her eyes narrowed by the slightest of margins and Rey was sure that if she hadn’t bitten down on her tongue so hard it bled she might’ve teared up. “I’m going to ask you again: did you tamper with the files we recovered from his office?” 

Rey shook her head. “No, not at all ma’am. I swear.”

The Chief didn’t say anything, and when she looked away it was in favor of staring at Finn instead. “And you knew about this, without reporting anything?”

“I asked him not to, Chief. That’s my fault,” Rey interjected as Finn nodded his head in the affirmative. 

“Ma’am, it was my decision,” Finn said, reaching out to put his hand on Rey’s shoulder. If it was his way of trying to calm her it wasn’t working; he’d lose his job over this like he’d worried! 

“No, I asked--.”

“Let him speak.” Chief Organa’s voice was sharp and Rey sank back in her chair. Fuck. Her nails dug into her palms hard enough to nearly draw blood, and she refused to look up as Finn sat forward in his seat. This was all her fucking fault. 

“I only recently learned that Rey had a connection with Plutt, though connection is perhaps too strong a word, ma’am. She told me that he attempted to take advantage of her sexually while she rented an apartment in exchange for him overlooking rent, and she expressed remorse in the fact that she hadn’t said a thing about it to the authorities at the time that it had happened, or when she came to the academy. She told me that if she’d have said anything she’d be taken off the case, and though it’s personal, she’s looking for redemption. Looking to find who did this to him, because she’s trying to set things right. The least she can do, from what I can tell, is see that whoever it is that murdered him sees justice because she believes it will help absolve her of the guilt from not having done anything. It is personal, but it’s motivation to see this through, to not get bogged down by the impossibilities of connecting these murders.”

As he paused to draw breath Rey peeked over at him, smiling weakly when he looked to meet her gaze. He was sweet, really. He and Poe deserved one another, deserved to both have jobs that paid well and made them happy, and here she’d gone and ruined it for Finn. 

“Her keeping it secret was wrong, absolutely, as was my actions to do the same, but they were my own decisions, and I stand by them. Rey’s the best damn detective I’ve ever seen.” 

Tekka snorted at that, his arms folding over his chest, and Finn met his condescending gaze head on. “She’s quick enough that while Tekka was waiting on an informant to come to him, specifically him, not the detectives on the case might I add, she was already working on putting together the previous murders with this most recent one.” 

Detective Tekka’s mouth opened to object but Chief Organa, sensing the disturbance of his impending interruption, held a hand up to silence him. “What’s that?”

“Whoever it is we’re looking for? They’re targeting Rey. Specifically people that might’ve done her harm.” 


	6. For the Ones That You Hate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, thank you all so much for the feedback, it's been glorious, and I could not have asked for better readers and fellow Reylo shippers! Thank you, thank you, thank you! <3
> 
> Song that's been massively helpful in writing this fic as a whole: One Way or Another by Until The Ribbon Breaks, and You Are My Sunshine by The Civil Wars. Both covers of the songs are _chilling_ to say the least.   
>  As ever, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

That specific connection, that they were targeting people who’d  _ hurt  _ her not just people connected to her, hadn’t been an angle that Rey had thought up, and it chaffed ever so slightly that she hadn’t been cognisant enough to have come up with it. If it was dealing with her she ought to have been able to come up with it, and the cold reality that she might be too close to the situation washed over her. Still she thought it over, and it made sense that it had less to do with them being just connected by her, but that the people who’d wound up dead had been somehow detrimental to her. If they could prove that Almec had been the one to deny Rey’s request for her case to be opened up to her, then they had something to work with. If not, well, she knew Plutt had earned his place on that list, but whomever it was that was doing this was going to have a helluva long ways to go. 

At least that gave her a chance to catch them. 

Chief Organa sat back in her seat at Finn’s words, her eyes moving slowly between the two of them. “Based upon what evidence?” 

Finn looked over at Rey, who breathed slowly. Now was the time if there ever was going to be. “Unkar Plutt tried to use his position as landlord in order to get me perform sexual acts on him in exchange for not having enough for rent. I’m not the first girl he’d done this to, and I doubt I was the last. Almec worked as a head of Foster Care and Child Adoption services, and I petitioned the bureau to release my family records. My request was refused, and though I cannot prove just yet that it was Almec’s decision, if Finn’s thought process is right, then that would confirm her connection. As for Tomas . . . .” She swallowed thickly, considering it as her brain worked in double time to come up with a response. “Which bank did he work for, again?” she asked Finn, turning to him. She felt like a switch had just been turned on in her brain, and it infuriated her she hadn’t caught it before. 

“First Republic.” 

Right. “That’s the bank I attempted to take out a loan from when I was having a difficult time making rent, before I moved into the barracks of the department. My loan was denied, which prompted Plutt to speak to me when I couldn’t make rent. While I fully appreciate that the situation was my own, and that for circumstances I couldn’t control I was unable to pay my bills, it was a difficult situation. Tomas Bast worked at First Republic, in charge of the loans division. Around his body we’d found denied loans papers, that only Bast would’ve been able to get to, and for everyone there a single coal shoved down his throat, plus one extra. If our killer is going for symbolism, I do think that it wasn’t a counting error on his behalf, but a finger pointing at my own denied loan, which was noticeably removed.” She swallowed thickly. “What’s more, they would’ve had my background information attached with my loan application, showing that I was an orphan. It wouldn’t have been a far reach for our killer to have found Ms. Almec, not if he was able to get to Bast before her.” 

Leia was quiet as she considered the idea, and Rey wasn’t so sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. Truthfully, she’d been hoping for something more to go off of, as foolish as that was to think. Leia Organa was nothing if not the most affluent liar of all of them, her poker face the best Rey had seen in her whole life. A pity Ben had never learned to pick up the same skill; a good thing, Rey supposed, that he was on the SWAT team where his face was covered by a mask. 

She really shouldn’t have been thinking about Ben, not there with his mother in front of her and her own career on the line. That wasn’t anywhere near appropriate, but her thighs pressed hard together all the same. Fuck, what was wrong with her? Last night had been a mistake; every time she looked at the Chief she was going to think of her son, think of Ben’s fingers inside her, of her lips around his cock--. 

“I’ll press Ken to get you the records to check this. I want to know whether or not he’s targetting you, or just the people around you and this is his way of getting started.” Her words were abrasive and short, her eyes steely as she fixed Rey with a glower that chased away all thoughts of Ben Solo from her mind. “And I want you to report to me every. Step. Of the way. Do you understand?” 

So, she wasn’t taken off the case? Wasn’t fired? Perhaps relief shone too quickly on her face because Leia’s throat clearing didn’t bode well for her. “You, withholding information from us, is serious, Rey. I won’t tolerate it again. I know my brother vouched for you, and I’m a firm believer in your abilities and skills, but I won’t tolerate being left in the dark. Understand?” 

“Yes ma’am. It won’t happen again, I swear.” 

“It better not. Dismissed, both of you.” 

 

\--

 

_ It wasn’t difficult to keep an eye on the man when he was so ridiculously predictable. It would’ve taken all the fun out of the hunt if he wasn’t so keen on getting to the man before he could cause any more damage. His wrinkled, aged face looked so smug, so self assured, that it made his own teeth clench and ache to watch the slow shift of muscles beneath the uniform. How much life was really expected to be left in him? This decrepit, dinosaur of a man, with dull teeth and not near enough brains to fill a teaspoon, he still thought himself valuable. Useful.  _

_ This pathetic excuse of a man had a week of time off coming up, though what he needed time off for was beyond questioning when he was retiring within the month. Either way, no one would be looking for him, and it was doubtful such a clear chance to demonstrate to him how utterly useless his information was would come up any sooner. How utterly useless  _ he  _ was. The anticipation set into his bones, into the fiber of his being. He’d give himself time to prepare still, wanting to savor the hunt. Too often it was over just as soon as it’d started, and as old as this fool was, there ought to at least be some strength left in him to make it worthwhile, to make it fun.  _

 

\--

 

Rey pulled Finn in for a hug as soon as they were out of Leia’s office and in a tucked away hallway leading to one of the interrogation rooms. Her arms wrapped around him with familiar ease and she buried her face in the crook of his neck as she just held him tight against her. Fuck, that’d been close. Too close. Her heart was going to burst from her chest if she let go of him, of that Rey was certain, and he held onto her with just as much strength as if he could sense that. 

“Hey,” he said finally, voice soft, breath warm against her skin. “You’re okay. We’re both okay, still employed. Still on the case. It’s all going to be alright.” 

Was it? They were looking for someone who was looking for people who’d hurt her, for someone who was becoming painfully intimate with the aspects of Rey’s life that she didn’t always know all that much about. What if they found her parents before she did, and the only way she’d ever get to meet them was by staring down at their corpses? 

She shuddered in Finn’s grip, pressing her face to his chest now. It was a struggle to breathe, but familiar enough to help calm her down. They were going to catch him, or her, before that time. They would. There was no other option. She pulled away to look up at him, her eyes red though she hadn’t cried. His right hand found hers, squeezed, and she forced herself to smile. “Everything’s going to be okay.” 

“Atta girl.” 

They came out of the hallway together, Rey with every intention of going back to her work and looking over at the pictures until they burned into her eyes, but Ben Solo was already there waiting for her. His dark eyes lit on her the second she and Finn came back into sight, and his gaze flickered from Finn to Rey once more. He had a coffee in his hand from the nearby coffee shop, and she couldn’t help but smile, confused but pleased to see him. The look in his eyes, the sharp flash of something far darker than what she’d expected to see, took her aback, but he leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek before she could say something about it. 

“Hey. Thought you might want a pick me up,” he said with a smile, all traces of whatever it was that Rey had thought she’d seen disappearing, swallowed whole in the abyss of his eyes. She thanked him with a grateful smile Wow, wasn’t he affectionate?

“I’m on duty,” she murmured when he pulled away. Finn had pointedly looked away, and something between she of her own, taking the coffee cup and allowing him to reach down and kiss her on the lips after she’d taken a sip. and Ben crackled ever so slightly. 

“So? Won’t you have a break coming up?” he asked. His voice was low, recalling to mind the last time he’d spoken like this to her, how he’d felt so close to her, his fingers sunk knuckle deep within her. She bit her tongue until she tasted blood. 

“You’re serious?” she asked, trying not to snort at how ridiculous this was. She was a detective, he was a SWAT member, the both of them were supposed to be the pinnacle of professionalism. Still, she’d have to be blind to not have noticed how fucking attractive he was in his uniform, decked out in a black pair of well fitting pants that only made him look all the taller, his combat boots shined enough that she swore she could see the ceiling reflected in the leather. 

She’d be lying to say she didn’t want to sink her fingers in his jacket, rip off his black, long-sleeve shirt, and lay him flat against her desk, climb atop him until her knees ached, and sink down onto his cock--. 

Shit, she wasn’t going to get anything done with that on her mind, Leia’s threat or not. 

She wondered whether or not he could read her mind, given the way his lips twisted upwards. “Yeah. Dead serious.” 

She looked back at Finn, who looked up at her with a curious expression, as though he hadn’t heard or guessed what it was they were talking about. Again, there was that weird sort of spark between she and Ben, something that set every hair on her body on edge, but she couldn’t put into words just what it was she was so worried about. Right. “You okay if I take a quick break to pull myself together?”

Finn was fighting back a laugh. His eyebrows rose. “That’s what we’re calling it?”

“Finn, please.” 

He sighed and nodded. “Yeah. Go on.” 

Ben’s hand was on her wrist and he was tugging her out before she could reconsider. 

 

Ben sheathed inside her, his enormous frame holding hers up against the wall of the nearest, abandoned break room  _ did  _ help, as it turned out. She was forced to bite back her moans as he fucked into her with ease, as though they’d been going at it for months rather than this being their first time, and her head leaned back to hit the wall. He felt as though he was going to split her apart, and with every forward cant of her hips he hit that perfect spot within her that her fingers never seemed to be able to get to. She hadn’t been able to rip open his shirt like she’d wanted, not having near enough time, but her left hand held tight to his shoulders as her right one dug into his hair and scraped at the base of his scalp. He shuddered, leaning down to suck on her throat, taking care not to apply too much pressure. 

She’d already threatened to never sleep with him again if he left a mark in the middle of the day. Finn was already going to judge the hell out of her for stealing away for a quickie  _ at work _ , but it felt too fucking good, helped clear her head. Grounded her. And the way he was fucking up into her told her he was enjoying it just as much.  A deep growl resonated in his chest as he felt her tighten around him, her eyes squeezing shut and the quietest of whimpers breaking past her lips as his hands squeezed her supple ass, pulling her down and onto his cock. With every downward shift the sound of their flesh hitting reverberated between them, and her mind whited out as she came with a wordless, high pitched whimper he had to swallow with his mouth to keep them from garnering too much attention. 

As she tightened around him he chased his orgasm, rutting into her with abandon so all she could do was clutch at his shoulders. Their lips parted to gasp for breath before too long. Rey had to bite her tongue to keep from whining, sore and oversensitive, but his hips stuttered and he buried himself to the hilt in her a couple moments later. The growl that came from him made her shudder, nails digging into his back through the black jacket he’d refused to take off. Fuck, that had been entirely worth it. She struggled to breathe as he pulled himself out of her and disposed of the condom in the nearby trashcan, shaking it slightly to hide the evidence beneath a couple of wrappers. Rey, meanwhile, shimmed back into her pants and looked over to see him tucking himself away back into his own black trousers. 

“You’re crazy, you know that?” she asked him, corners of her mouth twitching upwards. “Even if your mother is the head of the Force we could get fired for this.” 

“And we could’ve gotten caught and charged, yesterday, for public indecency,” he reminded her with a grin of his own, slicking his hair back into place once more. “Learn to live a little, Rey.” 

She wished it was that easy. They parted at different times, Rey leaving first to go back to Finn, sure that everyone could tell that she was walking funny, but no one said a word. Finn just winked when she sat back down. 

“Worth it?” 

“Yeah. Hush. Now, let’s look at the list of people that used to rent houses from Plutt one more time and I’ll see if I know any of them personally.” She kept her words quick and brief to keep herself from flushing under Finn’s teasing stare. 


	7. Turn Up The Crazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the breaks between updates! Hope you enjoy the chapter!

Now that they had Chief Organa’s support, and pressure, Ken assured them that he’d do whatever it was he could in order to secure those files, though he didn’t look pleased about it. Rey knew it was going to be a difficult task, but there was a reason he worked for the state rather than take an easier job elsewhere. Where else was he going to find a job that challenged him just as much? Meanwhile, Rey wasn’t seeing many names that she recognized, but cross referencing them with the system showed and with Facebook provided her with a slew more faces to put to the previously unrecognizable names. Still, there wasn’t a single one of them she could’ve imagined feeling upset at how she was being treated when they were all going through the same shit, and didn’t remember getting into a discussion with any of them about her time in the foster care system, or that she’d applied for a loan and been denied. It didn’t make any sense how two, very personal, aspects of her life had been found out when really, she was about as secretive as they got. At least she thought she was. 

Hell, she didn’t think she was all that interesting to begin with, but someone did, and it sent chills up her spine to think on that. Since she’d come to the Academy she’d met a great deal more people, most of them honorable in the sense that they all were united under the same common purpose, but who’d she met since then? But then who the hell could’ve pulled something off like this? 

She growled as she looked through the list once more, scratching off names of men and women alike when none of them posed a plausible lead. If Plutt had been the first case, the first dead body they’d found, it might’ve been a little easier, but they had to look for someone who knew her and that, she equal parts frustrated and proud to admit, was fucking difficult. 

“What if we don’t find him?” she murmured. She turned her gaze up to Finn, who was bent over his own files, searching for something else that could connect Tomas and Almec. His dark gaze met and held hers, his lips pushed tight together in a frown. 

“We’re going to, Rey.” 

“But what if we don’t? What if I get discharged because I couldn’t own up to having known or had connections with the victims or--.” What if they started to suspect her? She swallowed thickly, her gaze turning to the Chief’s office. It wouldn’t have been a far stretch, and maybe that was why Organa had been so keen to let Rey stay on the case. It wasn’t looking good for her; no one else would know who’d screwed her over better than herself, and the realization that she could be a suspect had her blood temperature plummeting to sub-zero. Did Organa think that, really? 

Finn must’ve guessed something along those lines, because one of his hands spread out to take her fingertips. “They don’t suspect you.” 

“They might.” She wetted her lips and dug her nails into the wood of her desk. Fuck. And after all the hard work she’d done to get to where she was, to get the promotion, impress Luke Skywalker into thinking that he saw something in her. For what, now? For her to be brought to the forefront of the investigation, prime suspect number one? 

“Do you want to go talk to the Chief about it? She might be willing to take your statement, hear your alibis.” 

The thought was tempting, but would it make her look guilty? Providing more information than strictly necessary? Now she’d jumped past borderline paranoid and headed straight for imagining things, of this she was sure, but that realization didn’t make it any easier to breathe when she saw the doors of the precinct open to allow Luke Skywalker,  _ the  _ Luke Skywalker, who’d picked her above dozens of prospective detectives, through and into his sister’s office. 

She needed something to distract her again, and buried her nose back into her paperwork. They had to find something, just had to. There was no other option. She ignored the sound of raised voices coming from Leia’s office a few minutes later, though she felt her cheeks burning as she hefted the file she was going over up and around her face, pointedly ignoring the sensation of being stared at that she was pretty sure she’d have to contend with for the rest of her career there. ‘ _ Less sulking, more working _ .’ She had a damn job to do. 

When the thought hit her it literally made her jump, her eyes growing wide as she sat up straight in her chair and slid closer to her computer desk, fingers eagerly clacking at the keys. Finn looked up from his paperwork. “Got a lead? What’s up?” he asked, his voice pitching in his excitement. He had the latest pictures from Forensics in his hands, going over them again to try and see if there wasn’t anything else that they were missing. The images of Almec’s cut up body stared up at her as Rey turned her screen towards Finn, showing the face of her past neighbor, the one who’d been convicted for possession. Carth Grant had been lucky enough, and of the right skin tone, to avoid most hard jail time, and had been let off two months ago on probation. He’d known she was an orphan, the pair of them having split a bottle of wine, had heard all about her money woes and the difficulties she’d had with trying to afford training with work, and how Plutt had been breathing down her neck. He’d had all the incentive to go after Plutt himself, had been from the Outer Rim area--. It began to match up piece by piece, and she was fighting back a grin as Finn read everything over. 

“You think it’s him?”

“I think it’s the first lead I’ve got a decent feeling about. He’s a great guy, or he was, but he had some serious anger issues when I knew him last.” 

Finn hummed quietly. “Says here he got let out on good behavior. Lucky bastard.” 

Rey agreed, fingers tapping at the surface of her desk. She was eager to get going, to track him down and at least talk to him, see if there wasn’t anything they could figure out. The read out on her screen said it was nearly four in the afternoon, though, time having flown in between getting yelled at by Chief Organa and Ben having distracted her. Finn seemed to have noticed the same and frowned. 

“Not sure we should go after him this late in the day. Organa would likely want to hear everything about it, and I’m not so sure today is a good day to ask her to stay late for us.” He winced at the sound of her door being opened then slammed shut, Luke Skywalker shuffling out and back towards the exit, emphasizing his point. Rey chewed on the inside of her cheek. They were so close! 

But he had a point. Besides, more time meant she would get the chance to really hone in what questions she wanted to ask him, to be subtle about it. She wasn’t so sure what state she’d find him in, whether he’d trust her or not given that she was a detective now, but they’d been friends. This, she reminded herself, was why officers didn’t get involved in their cases, and stepped away before it got to this point. 

She’d have Finn take point tomorrow, she conceded to herself, as she nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Besides, don’t wanna go over hours.” 

Finn rolled his eyes and let out a low snort. They’d all gotten stern warnings the last time they’d maxed out their hours and headed with ease to over time. As if their jobs ever really allowed for time off. It was a stupid idea, and if not for Snoke breathing down all their necks, and worrying about how the taxpayers were going to afford an incompetent force that didn’t finish their work in the allotted time (even thinking about it put Rey on edge), it wouldn’t even be up for discussion. As it stood, however, he’d rather have them under employed and saving money than actually able to do a whole lot of good in a timely manner. 

Politics. 

Still, she refused to let her spirits get dampened by that thought. They had a direction to go in, they had something to look  _ forward  _ to doing, at least. The possibility of it all made her giddy with anticipation. 

 

\--

 

_ Because of the history they shared, he wanted to take his time with the old man, and had the next few days off with which he could do so. He sat at home, chilled beer perspiring on the table beside him as he went through his preparations, cleaning and recleaning the long, serrated blade that had been in his family since before he was born. This was going to be satisfying to the extreme, and he was all but salivating with anticipation. His mind flashed with thoughts of how he'd do it, how he'd go first for the fingers, filleting them with ease, the point of his blade sharp enough to cut through the decrepit skin and ancient muscle, now atrophied from use. He didn’t want to use a gag this time, not like he had with the woman. Her screams had been irritating, nails scraping down a chalkboard, and had forced him to silence her. This man he'd take pleasure in hearing, in the inane babble that would follow. They'd all thought to try and reason with him, believed that to be able to talk quickly enough meant they could emerge unscathed.  _

_ He looked down at the blade, at his reflection in it, and grinned at how the serrated edge seemed to cut his face in two. He’d been looking forward to this too much, this particular death for too long, to give it up. Now he finally had the reason he'd been looking for. Depositing the knife back in its place, he tugged the cross out from under the black button down he'd worn to work, twisting it beneath his fingers and reveling in how the cold would soon turn blazing hot. He’d bind the fool first, and do this second. He wanted it to burn in the back of the old man’s mind, wanted the symbol to be as blatant as he could get, and with Plutt it just hadn’t been as satisfying. He hoped this time might remedy that disappointment. The metal weighed heavily between the pads of his fingers, and he pressed his lips to the back of it, feeling the engraved letters, before letting it drop and rest against his chest. Taking another swig of his beer, he moved on to the rest of his tools, wrapping and unwrapping the rope around his hands, feeling the strength of it, before finally easing it into a simple circle to be set down beside him. The plastic tarp was already waiting for him in his car, he’d double checked where he’d stowed it beneath the car seats, the mess from Plutt already having been cleaned off and bleached away with ease. The man might’ve been a stain on the dregs of society, but all blood was cleaned and washed away with ease at the end of the day. His next victim would be no different.  _

 

\--

 

It took a week before they were able to get to Carth. A week, and Rey was chomping at the bit the whole while. They’d gotten sidetracked by Ken having come through with the files and names that Leia had requested, and since it’d been such a lofty request Finn admitted to Rey that they’d better make use of it. Besides, so long as Carth was on probation he wasn’t going anywhere. Rey had to agree, though she didn’t particularly like it. So long as he didn’t know they were looking for him it was better to start to build their case up. 

The lists confirmed that Almec had had Rey’s address on hand, and the addresses of all of her previous homes as well thanks to the foster care system, along with notes about each one in turn. Looking through those had made Rey’s stomach feel as though it was splitting, and so had handed them off to Finn to look through, sure that she was too close to the subject material anyway. What interested her were the letters of correspondence between Bast and Almec, a month before either of them were found dead. Tomas was looking for character references, wondering just whether or not Rey was a viable candidate for a loan, and that made her blood boil. Who were they to decide that she didn’t deserve one because she didn’t have parents? Didn’t know who they were, or who she belonged to, just had a last name and the Internet, and when that search was exhausted she’d tried going to the people who’d actually know. Why were they believing her to be unworthy of a loan from that alone? 

She hated to think that it wasn’t such a bad thing that they’d both died, but she wasn’t exactly wincing at the pictures of their mutilated, injured bodies anymore. 

It was a relief to finally get out of the office and track Carth down. According to his probation officer he was employed at the local garage three days out of the week, so they tried there first. This time Rey took the lead, smiling at the man behind the counter when they stepped inside and asking if Carth could take his break. 

 

He ran instead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic now comes with a [playlist!](http://8tracks.com/futurerustfuture-dust/opia)  
> Also, if you're interested, I sometimes post previews of upcoming chapters, answer questions relating to Opia and all my other fics, on my [tumblr](http://futurerustfuture-dust.tumblr.com)


	8. Throw The First Punch . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: One minor thing changed in this character, in reference to Carth's appearance.

Finn, closest to the door, got the fastest head start, careening down the block after Carth while Rey jumped past the fence-closed back alleyway to try and cut him off by going around the building he’d run from. The cold air strung her cheeks and eyes, making the latter tear up as she bolted down the pavement. They were back in the Outer Rim, back in her territory, and she knew this city like the back of her damn hand. Better, probably. Here it was know your surroundings and survive, or waste away like everything else in this hell hole. Her heart pounded fiercely in her lungs, her brain screaming at her to run  _ faster, _ that he was going to get away, and they’d already waited a week! They couldn’t wait much longer, and what if he’d already killed his fourth victim and they couldn’t stop him? She breathed heavily through her open mouth as she careened down the tight alley, then rounded her way through another having to squeeze through sideways by the end of it, but managing to catch Carth coming right at her with a well placed arm to his throat while he was looking back at Poe. He went down coughing and spitting, gasping for air through a sore larynx as Rey pushed him over onto his front and cuffed him. All they’d wanted was to talk, but then he had to go and run. Had to. He growled, shifting and struggling underneath her as Finn caught up, panting and coughing, not out of shape but certainly they hadn’t been prepared for him to make a break for it. 

“Shit. Did you used to run track or something?” Finn asked Rey as she grinned up at him. 

“No. You spend most of your life running, though, you get pretty good at it. You should come with me one of these mornings.” Getting onto her legs, she hauled Carth up with her, who growled and looked between the two of them. He was as big a guy as she remembered, taller than her by at least a few inches, broad in the shoulders and well built. She wondered whether or not he’d gained muscle since he’d been put away in jail, whether the hard look in his eye was the only thing that’d changed about him since she’d known him. His pale blond hair was the same, his brown eyes were just the same shade of tawny, but there was an edge to him that the cool, calm neighbor she’d known never had possessed. 

“The hell are you cuffing me for?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing on Rey. “I didn’t do anything!”

It struck her that he might not have had any idea who she was, and that idea hit her low in the gut. Someone who was trying to do all of these terrible things to people who’d hurt Rey certainly wouldn’t not know what she looked like. Would they? Was she being too egocentric about the whole thing? It just didn’t sit right, but she shook her head. Was it terrible that part of her hoped she was wrong? 

“You ran from the police. Doesn’t really scream innocent.” 

He tried to elbow himself free, but her hands tightened like manacles on his upper arms. “I don’t trust cops, forgive me for being cautious.”

Finn shook his head, his eyes steely when he looked at Carth, sizing him up. Rey wondered whether or not he was having the same thoughts, whether he was second guessing their choice. It made sense for him to run, sure, but they couldn’t be certain just what his motive was, and that unsettled Rey more than all of it. “Yeah, cautious or not, we’ve got a few questions for you down at the station.” 

“I didn’t do anything,” he growled as he shoved against her. Finn made a motion to grab him from Rey’s hold, but Rey gave the quickest shake of her head, and caught his nearest wrist hard in her grasp, pinching the veins there so that his arm went limp. Carth shouted and looked over at her, his mouth opening, and Rey arched a brow. 

“You resisting arrest isn’t helping your case, Carth. Now, at risk of sounding trite, either we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Which is it going to be?” she hissed, her eyes narrowed and her grip tightening enough to make him wince. 

He looked down when she shook him ever so slightly. “Easy.” 

Good. About damn time. Finn stayed silent as Rey led him back to her car, trying not to think about the fact that if he wanted to, Carth could have her damn head on a plate for unnecessary roughness. It was ridiculous to think, but she was fucking  _ losing  _ it. Once she deposited him in the seat and slammed the door behind him Finn shot her a look from across the car. “Calm down,” he said quietly. “Don’t let this get to you.” 

But how could she not when it was her freaking life on the line? Her personal life, her history and past and everything that was fucked up that she’d never been able to control, that would be up for scrutiny if this went on for much longer? She just nodded, lips pressed together in a tight line, before they got into the car. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and she tried not to think too hard about the fact that she’d just roughed up a man who used to be her friend, who was a potential perp but also potentially innocent. She’d freaking bulldozed past that thinly traced line of what was acceptable versus what wasn’t without hardly any pause. What was this case  _ doing  _ to her? 

 

\--

 

_ ‘They have the wrong guy.  _ They have the wrong guy! _ ’ _

 

\--

 

There were a few whispers of surprise as Rey tugged Carth in, and Finn went to go talk to the Chief about it, wanting to let her know that they at least had a suspect in custody that Rey was sure would have some sort of connection. She didn’t know where else to go with it, that was the truth of the matter, and she was betting on him at least having a clue. Hopefully. The last thing she wanted to admit to Leia was that she was back to square one and none the wiser about this case when she’d done so much to stick out her neck for them, had trusted Rey with this. 

Carth sat down with a grimace, his jaw clenched tight as he looked up at her and squinted. His shoulders, which had been rigid, relaxed as comprehension dawned on his face. “Rey?” 

She nodded, taking a seat opposite him without sparing a look for the door. She wasn’t so sure that she should be talking to him so early, but she figured if she wanted to set him at ease enough she might as well get right into it. She just hoped that they were smart enough to get the camera going fast enough. “Hey, Carth. Long time.” 

“Tell me about it.” He sat back in his seat and gave her a slow up-down that played at the edge of her mind. What the hell did he think he was doing? “Since when did you sell your soul to become a cop?” 

She scowled at that. “You knew that was what I always wanted to do. Or don’t you remember?” 

“I remember you being cool, and you letting me crash at your place when I had too long of an overnighter and couldn’t so much as think about putting the key in my lock, let alone actually managing it. I remember you sitting back and doing nothing as Plutt called the First Order on my ass and had me forcefully evicted.” His eyes narrowed at her. “So why the hell are you bringing me back? What’d the pufferfish say I’ve done now?” 

Rey pursed her lips. He was playing clueless, and he was doing it well if not for the nervous, quick glances of him staring at her, then the door, then back to her. Was he expecting to have a lawyer come in? Please. That shit only happened in the movies, and she was going to interrogate him until she was forced not to. He hadn’t called for anything, so she wasn’t going to offer it up. 

Another dirty move, but her stomach settled with the surety that he was a killer. He didn’t get to be treated as though he was innocent, not when them letting him back out meant that someone else could potentially die. Right? Wasn’t this the less extreme to take? Putting a bullet between his eyes would do the trick, too, but that’d  _ definitely  _ get her kicked off the Force. 

If not promoted to the SWAT team. 

“Can you tell me where you were between the 5th and 9th of September?” she asked, sitting back in her seat to give herself some semblance of being in her element. She hoped. 

Carth snorted. “Why don’t you call my probation officer?” 

“And tell him you ran from the cops while I’m at it? I’m sure he’d be thrilled.” 

She watched the blood drain from his face, his eyes searching hers. He’d always been so vibrant when she’d met him, going from one extreme to the other, always either hyped up or exhausted, angry or entirely calm. He didn’t do in betweens, and while she’d admired it before now it made him all the easier to read. 

“You’ve changed, Rey.”

“I’m not the only one.”

That panic that had caused him to go still as a pole sank away to reveal his irritation. “You know I had nothing to do with that pot. You know I’ve never smoked before that.” 

“Not talking about that,” she said. “Just answer my question, please. Where were you--.” 

He scoffed. “Yeah, between September 5th and 8th, I heard you.”

“9th,” she growled. The way he rolled his eyes made her want to sink her fist into his face. It was foolish of her to think that this was going to be easy. 

“Whatever. I was at home, or I was at work. I called in to check with my probation officer and case manager in between. Other than that I was home.” 

So they might’ve been off for a few days, that wouldn’t be the first time. “What about August 27 through the 29th? Or the 14th through the 17th?” 

“Are we playing a guessing game?” he demanded, voice a growl as he sat forward in his seat. “Or are you gonna let me go? Because I was fuckin’ home for all of them. What’s this about? What’re you charging me with?” 

She bit her bottom lip, her irritation growing as she opened her mouth to shout at him to answer her truthfully when the door opened and Finn stood in the door, his face apologetic as a broad man strode through the door and shoulder-checked him. It made Finn growl low in his throat as the man turned to Rey and sneered. 

“Don’t say anything Mr. Grant. I’m your attorney.” 

Carth blinked at that, taken aback, but getting to his feet when the man motioned for him to. Janus Hildenbrand was the last son of a bitch Rey had wanted to see, and now that he was there she felt the need to rise to her feet, to make herself as tall as she could. Not that it really did all that much for her given that the man still managed to tower over her even on her finest of days, and she could feel her patience unravelling ridiculously soon. Her skin crawled with the condescending smirk he shot her way. “I’d never thought to see you breaking the law, little girl. Thought you were still playing pretend with Skywalker, or has he given up on you?” 

She grit her teeth, nails making half moon indents in her palms as she stared up at him. “He’s retired. You and I both know that.” 

“A good thing, too. He’d hate to see his apprentice interrogating the newest victim of the Force, wouldn’t he? Carth, did they even read you your rights?” he asked, shooting the man just behind him a sympathetic look as Rey’s heart plummeted. Fuck. 

Janus didn’t bother waiting for a response, getting one enough from Rey’s expression. He sneered. “Didn’t think so. So, I have a proposition; you leave my client alone until you actually have anything to even consider bringing him in for, and I’ll waive this lapse of judgement. Rookie mistake.” 

‘ _ Fuck you. _ ’ 

She had to bite her tongue as Janus led Carth out, her previous neighbor not even shooting her a look as he was escorted out with Finn’s murmured apologies. Finn looked over at her, and let the door swing shut behind him as he walked to her. “Pull it together, Rey,” he murmured quietly, setting his hands on her shoulders. She shrugged them off and shoved past him. She needed to shoot something. 

  
  


\--

 

_ He let out a sigh of relief and a slow smile spread over his lips. That had gone far better than he’d thought, and a good thing too. No one had noticed that the old man had gone missing, no one had thought to even go looking for him, though they wouldn’t have for some time anyway. Not until he wanted the man to be found. As it was he ought to be coming to consciousness within a few hours, but he’d let him fret. Half of the fun was the anticipation, the first disbelieving look when the blade sank past the flesh and blood spilled over the silver blade, painting it red and his fingers with it. He had to be careful not to get it everywhere, which really put a damper on his creativity, but in time. All in time.  _

_ If only she knew the things he had in store for her to find. _

 

\--

 

There was a reason she loved her Saber with her whole heart, and the responsiveness, the light feel in her palms as the metal heated beneath her skin, the lack of a serious kick despite the power as each of the bullets buried into the target before her, were secondary. She felt grounded with it in her hands, a sense of calm overwhelming her as she squeezed off round after round, easily spending the three clips she’d brought with her in a matter of minutes. She kept her arms relaxed and just squeezed the trigger. Luke Skywalker had personally given her this gun, had offered it up to her at his retirement party, and a better gun she couldn’t have ever asked for. It rarely jammed, and that was really only ever if she’d not gotten around to taking it apart to clean it, and something about it .  . . . It felt like confidence she could wrap her fingers around, like the knowledge that no one was going to ever mess with her again, that even when Janus was being an ass and Leia had her in her sights, and  _ fuck  _ Luke probably hated her if he knew what was going on, she was still going to manage to pull out of it alright by the end. 

At least until she spent the last bullet and was forced to put the gun down and remove the earmuffs from her head. She didn’t want to waste more ammo than that on a target that hadn’t done anything to her, but no sooner had she put the gun down than that same annoying, cloying feeling that she was so unbelievably  _ screwed  _ came back to weight heavily on her shoulders. 

“Bad day at the office?” 

She turned to see Hux standing just a few feet behind, his hands on the barrel of a sniper rifle, dressed down from the usual First Order uniform she was so used to seeing on Ben. Or off. Oh she needed to stop that. 

She gave a short huff. “You could say that. You?” 

He gave a nonchalant shrug, his light eyes bored looking. “Going to practice. Ever shoot one before?” 

She shook her head. No need to, never felt the need to. 

His lips curled and he motioned with his head for her to follow him, turning to head off in the direction of the sniping range. She paused, taking a breath, before collecting her things to hurry after him. She and Hux rarely talked, outside of the occasional pleasantry between them that was short lived, and for Ben’s sake as of late. They’d hardly even talked at Maz’s when she’d gone over to sit with them, his attention having been captivated by Phasma, so this would place their previous conversation as the longest they’d ever had. How pathetic was that? 

Still, they didn’t exchange many more words until he’d stopped at the range to set up the black gun, Rey staring on in thinly veiled interest. She knew how it worked, of course, but the last time she’d held something any longer than her handgun it’d been a shotgun, and it’d been as a joke with Finn. He’d come from the country, more comfortable with shooting wild birds and deer than humans, and so they’d gone out hunting for a weekend before they’d been promoted, Finn allowing her to borrow one of his shotguns provided she didn’t shoot him in the ass. This . . . was far more intimidating. Hux’s long fingers methodically loaded the short magazine, and shifted out of the side to invite her to lay down just behind the machine. Heart speeding up, she let him position her until the butt of the gun was nestled in the crook of her right shoulder blade, holding the gun as steady as she could. Hux hit a button just to their left, a warning alarm to let anyone in the general vicinity know that there was a sniper practicing and that they were to steer clear until it went off again, before he walked her through the basics of shooting. 

“Take your time,” he murmured, voice scratchy, like smoke, as she slowed her breathing down. “Always shoot with the exhale, just like with your gun. There’s no wind, so don’t worry about that.” 

Wow, he really liked the sound of his own voice, didn’t he? Still, she took it into consideration, and after a half minute of calming herself down and aiming, the crosshairs covering the center of the target, she breathed slowly out and squeezed the trigger. 

For not having a kick with her Saber, the rifle had a hell of a recoil, and it jolted her shot far right, hitting the outskirt of the circle. She swore under her breath, and could hear Hux’s smile in his voice. 

“Relax. You’ve got four more.” 

Four?  _ ‘Christ _ .’ She tried not to let that get to her, breathing slowly again as she took heed of the recoil this time and shifted her aim so that the next one just edged on the bullseye. Hux gave a low whistle. 

“Not bad for your second time.” 

By the fourth she managed to hit it, and grinned when she pulled back. “I can see why it’s a sought after position,” she murmured. Where she’d felt calm with the Saber in her palm, now her heart was kicking into another gear, pummeling her chest faster than she’d thought possible. Shit. Talk about an adrenaline kick. Hux grinned as well, nodding, and pulling out a clip of his own so he could practice. Rey shifted out of the way and sat by to watch as he hit the reset target button, and squeezed off his own four rounds in quick succession, hitting the center every time.  _ Every time _ . His gaze never faltered, she could hardly tell he was breathing, and when he moved it was as though the rifle was part of who he was, simply an extension of his arm. 

Talk about impressive. 

 

There was little more talk between them from that point, Rey admiring his technique and doing what she could to learn from it, but when he assured her he was going to be there for at least a few more hours she said her goodbyes and headed on her way. If he had the patience for it more power to him, but she certainly didn’t. Not to just watch. She was in a far better mood when she got down to her desk, but felt it melt from her bones as she stared at the coffee on her abandoned desk, Finn gone, too. In fact most of the office was empty, whether out on call or elsewhere she was assuming, so that when her fingers wrapped around the coffee and felt how warm it still was she couldn’t help but wonder who’d left it. 

There wasn’t a name to be found until she peeled down the cardboard cup holder, “Catch me if you can, sweetheart” scrawled in jagged lines just beneath, KoR scribbled just underneath it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for Hux goes, entirely, to [this glorious fan art](http://futurerustfuture-dust.tumblr.com/post/139862928437/schaloime-i-really-dig-that-idea-of-hux-being-a). I literally about died when I saw it and knew I had to throw it in here if I could. Just--yes, please.  
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you're enjoying the fic as it keeps going, and I'm absolutely amazed and floored by the feedback you guys have been giving me. aojsafojdsa you're the best readers. Ever.  
> Thanks again!


	9. . . . Make It A Good One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million and one thanks to Heather (ifuckinglovereylo on tumblr) for beta-ing this for me! I really appreciate it, dear (I had no idea how terrible of a writer I was beforehand xD damn, I'm bad)   
> Apologies for how long this chapter took to get out, but I hope this makes up for it! I've got a solid start on the next one, but given how crazy it tends to be (and I'm moving in . . . t-minus less than 30 days!) I can't make any promises. Thank you so much for reading! <3

No one saw a damn thing, not one  _ fucking  _ thing--the office had been nearly empty due to the coinciding lunch break and a double homicide/hostage situation that pulled all available officers downtown. Whether it was just luck in their guy’s favor, or intentionally done, it was too close to count. She sent the cafe americano, without room for milk (how she ordered it every week) to the lab to be tested, wanting to know whether or not it’d been laced with any additives. If it was maybe they could get a lead from it, if not . . . well how had the creep found out her coffee order? And the handwriting? They’d never found anything hand written by the perp before, so either he was feeling incredibly confident, or he was trying to throw them off. 

Neither would’ve surprised her if she was being frank. She wondered whether or not this was going to be a thing, now that he had their attention if he was going to start leaving them notes. Taunting them, taunting her. 

As she waited for the lab results she hunkered down in the main office, her eyes glued to the screens playing back the security feed as it showed a singular, tall figure stepped in. His left hand was stuck in his black hoodie pocket, his other had a glove on it, carrying the coffee. Given the temperature yesterday it wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary to wear gloves, and it just irritated her more. She’d have to see if they could find any fibers, but she doubted they’d offer much help. He had his hood pulled up over his face, and  _ knew  _ which corners to hug, where the shadows would hit his face perfectly, so even when he turned around slightly they couldn’t get a damn read on on his face at all. She saw a couple strands of blond hair sticking out from the top of the hood, and her jaw clenched. Tall, blond? Who just so happened to have knowledge of where the cameras were? Too much of a coincidence for it to be anyone else, but  _ why  _ would Carth take the chance of being caught when he’d just escaped being charged? Had Janus’ intervention made him bold? 

And why taunt her, too, unless he was trying to make her mad enough to mess up again? It wasn’t going to happen, not this time. She sat forward in her seat as she watched the figure disappear out the door, her teeth clenching at how  _ easy  _ it’d been for him to come in and disrupt the rest of her day. Perhaps it was payback for her doing the same to him, but she couldn’t see him wasting three bucks on a coffee just to prove a point. 

Then again she couldn’t imagine him doing a lot of things, but once you were put away you didn’t always get a choice. Wasn’t that the problem with the system on the whole? “There’s no chance we can get his face from what footage we do have, is there?” she asked, trying not to sound irritated but failing. Miserably. The tech guy at her side shook his head. 

“No, I’m really sorry. He’s good at what he does. Sly bastard.” 

Yeah, that was what worried her, and she simply thanked him before standing. Voices, loud and raucous, were coming from the other side of the door, signalling that the rest of the Force had come back. Finn and Poe ought to be with them, having been called away when the madness had gone down, and she desperately needed someone to talk to about this, . If they were feeling up to it maybe they’d go out to get a drink and bounce ideas off of one another. It might get the neurons firing, and given how easily Carth had slipped through her fingers, she could use a drink and a bit of help. 

Just as she got to her desk, where Poe and Finn were chatting quietly, the phone near her computer rang. Irritation bubbling, she reached out a hand to pick it up. “Yes?” 

“Rey?” The technician from the lab sounded anxious, and she supposed she wasn’t exactly all that inviting sounding. “This a bad time?” 

She sighed. “Only if it’s bad news.” 

“Does your coffee not being poisoned or laced with anything constitute as good or bad news?” He didn’t sound so sure, and her shoulders slumped, her jaw clenching. 

“Disappointing. Now I just wasted good espresso.” 

He gave a hum of understanding. “We didn’t find any fibers, but we identified the scribble as being definitely male. Didn’t get more than a 20% match in our database, but he’s right handed? Which doesn’t narrow it down, but still. It’s about all the news we’ve got.” She didn’t want to throw in the possibility that he might not even have been the one to write it. It wouldn’t have been too hard to ask a barista to do that. 

“Any chance you could see if Carth Grant matches?” She asked. He’d been in the system, so they had to have something on him. She tapped her foot as she waited, trying not to be impatient but she needed to know. Needed to have something she could pin on him, even if it was a 12% chance that it was him. 

“Carth Grant is left handed, and his scrawl is much messier,” the tech said. 

Rey let loose a disappointed sigh. Yes. Drinking was  _ definitely  _ happening tonight. 

 

“So, how do we get Carth back?” Rey asked as she mulled over her half gone double of Jack and Coke, her eyes searching Finn’s and Poe’s, desperate to find an answer in their already thoughtful expressions across the table from her. Poe spun his already empty glass on the wood, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Even if it’s not his handwriting he could’ve gotten someone else to do it for him. That’d be the smart thing to do.” 

“Well all you’ve got is a strand of blond hair that you can see from the cameras, so that doesn’t really encourage a whole lot more than speculation,” Poe admitted, and his expression was apologetic even as Finn kicked him from underneath the table. Rey’s shoulders squared. 

“I’m sure it’s him. You didn’t see his face when he left, it was damn triumphant.” 

“He just got out of jail time, and given that he’d been there before I would be damn happy, too. Rey, you said yourself that before he was framed. So, who’s to say he’s not an easy target now?” Poe sighed and set down the glass so he could look at her. She pointedly looked away, pressing her lips to a thin, tight line. That wasn’t helping her, and the drink was bitter in the back of her throat. 

“Look, I know you want to think that it’s him, for sure, but do you have any other leads?” 

She shook her head, staring over at him. “None. He’s all I’ve got.” 

Poe looked as though that was what he was afraid of. “Right. So you’re seeing symptoms of one disease because it’s the easy, obvious answer, but just because you’re getting weaker doesn’t necessarily mean you have cancer.” 

Her brow furrowed at his analogy, and he back peddled. “What I’m trying to say is that this might be someone else. Someone who’s got access--major access--to you, and your records. Carth wouldn’t have that kind of access to whoever it was that denied your family records, or your loan information. Not as an ex-con. And putting an innocent man in prison isn’t what you want to do, Rey.” He reached out a hand to close over one of her own, and she let it sit there. He had a point, and she hated it because it meant, once more, they had no idea where to look. She used her other hand to knock back the rest of her drink and look over at Finn. 

“What do you think?” 

“I think we need to wait until the next murder before we try and figure out if we can’t find anything else. They’re good, whoever they are. But they’ll make a mistake. We’ve just gotta try and get to it before they realize they’ve made one.” 

That wasn’t a good enough answer for her, but it seemed to be the only one that they had. Waiting around for another body to pile up as they twiddled their thumbs was a waste of all of their time, and only added to her guilt that she wasn’t able to pay Luke back for all that he supposedly had seen in her. She was letting him down--she was letting  _ everyone  _ down--and it didn’t bode well for her career. Too many bodies and there were going to be more voices like Lor’s, wondering whether or not she was competent enough to do this job. 

The sensation of her phone vibrating in her pocket pulled her out of her stupor, and she smiled a little curiously to see that it was Ben on the other line. She didn’t remember even putting his number into her phone, but she didn’t remember much past him fingering her that evening and how good he’d tasted when he’d kissed her. She pulled away from the table with a quiet excuse, and flicked the unlock button to take the call. “Hey there.” 

“Hey, what’re you up to tonight?” He asked, cutting straight to the chase. She could appreciate that, she supposed. 

“I’m out with Poe and Finn. What’s up?” 

Silence, enough so that she had to check her phone to make sure that her phone hadn’t dropped the call. “Ben?” 

“Hey--sorry, going through a bad patch. I said oh, okay. I didn’t know if you wanted to come over.” 

She’d never been over to his place before, and though the idea was tempting she found herself shaking her head. “I think we’re gonna be out for a little longer, sorry. Raincheck?” 

“Yeah. Sure.” He didn’t sound so thrilled, and with a few more stilted words between them she found herself with a dead other line. That was weird, but what had he expected, really? They’d fucked up against the wall in the breakroom and he’d fingered her in his car. If this was as casual a thing as she’d been led to believe it to be, shouldn’t he just be texting her?

Whatever. She wasn’t going to worry about it. He had his thoughts and she had hers, and that was all there was to it. If they didn’t match up then it wasn’t as though they had a relationship to break off. She headed back to where Poe and Finn were talking animatedly about the possibility of going to visit Poe’s mother at the beginning of December, Poe having had to miss his previous engagement because of the new case, and how BB-8 was getting better from the stomach issues he’d had since having been recovered from Plutt’s. Rey had just opened her mouth to join back in the conversation, not having known that he was even sick to begin with, when Finn’s phone went off. Poe and Rey watched his face grow pale as he summoned over their waitress and tried to pull out his wallet all at the same time. “We’ve, ah, been called in. There’s another body. Just got the call.” 

Poe and Rey shared a look, and her stomach turned, hating that this was exactly what they’d been waiting for, and she was potentially too drunk to make any use of it. 

 

\--

 

_ When he’d taken the old man he’d known exactly how he’d wanted to do it, but having him trapped in his home had changed things. Considerably. He was far more pathetic than initially planned, and had easily broken, so much so that it very nearly took the fun out of the execution. Nearly.  _

_ The sizzle of flesh, and the scream that had resounded, as he’d pressed the brand to the back of the old man’s neck had been satisfying to the extreme, raising gooseflesh on his skin as his grin warped, curling until he could feel it making his cheeks ache. He wasn’t so keen to speak now, was he? Just wailed, as though this was the worst thing he’d yet to experience.  _

_ If only he had an idea of what was to come. The delicious fear that rioted in his eyes when the old man noticed the blade newly protruding from his hand was well worth it, and the first slash resulted in a glorious scream of pain that echoed in his brain, . It wasn’t near enough, even as the old man babbled for mercy. For pity. That he didn’t have to do this, that there wouldn’t be any problems anymore!  _

_ They were far past that point. He ought to have thought twice before he’d opened his mouth in the first place, and stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.  _

 

\--

 

They’d taken a cab, and the whole way there Rey couldn’t stop fidgeting, her lips chapped even as she kept licking them. The couple drinks she’d had sounded like a  _ terrible  _ idea, but she’d been through worse. She kept reminding herself that if she could get through what they did at training, if she could hold it together having seen all the other bodies, then she could do this, too. Couldn’t she? 

The other bodies had been found at various levels of decay, but this? This was fresh, and staged. Lor San Tekka’s body had been carefully put up as though he were a high end art piece, and Rey was too damn drunk to make much sense of it other than to have to race to the side and puke at the scent of blood and shit, Tekka having definitely excavated his bowels before he’d died. The acrid taste of bile mirrored the smell, and it only made her sicker the longer she had it in her mouth. No matter how many times she spit she couldn’t stop it from flooding her senses. 

A bottle of water was offered up to her, and she looked up to stare into the eyes of Leia Organa, whose expression was less than amused. “Long night?” 

“Chief,” Rey rasped, clicking the top off of the bottle and taking a deep swig. So much better. “I’m so sorry--I wasn’t expecting--.” 

“We’re never expecting to be called in. That’s why it’s given the phrase being on call, isn’t it? And you’re in the middle of an open investigation. It’s smart to not be wholly into the liquor bottle at 8 o’clock in the evening?” 

Oh. Was that what she was that evening? She swallowed thickly and nodded. “Of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t think--.” 

“It’s been a rough day,” Leia interrupted, and there was something sharp in her eyes. It brought gooseflesh to Rey’s skin that had nothing to do with the chill. “We’ll have the pictures on your desk and the evidence analyzed as soon as you get there in the morning. Take the rest of the night off, get a cab home.” 

Rey opened her mouth, more than prepared to argue. “But--.” 

“That’s an order.” 

That shut her up. Blinking back tears of disbelief at herself and fury, she turned from the scene and found herself calling the last number that had given her a call. She worried at her bottom lip as she put the phone up to her ear, praying it wasn’t too late to call. “Hey. Ben? Any chance I can take you up on that offer, actually?” 


	10. Worse Than Nicotine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was a bit of a bear to write, and I apologize if it comes off as rushed? I'll probably take another look at it, but at the moment I just want it out there, y'know? Just off my chest. So, I hope you enjoy it either way! Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> This chapter also involves sex in which one character is inebriated; of that is a squick for you I'd suggest skipping most of the top section (there's a page break before it begins and where it ends).  
> The italicized portion is a bit more gruesome than usual, so if that's a squick for you, I'd skip it. Just wanted to give everyone a heads up!

She waited a few blocks away from the flashing red and blue lights of the other, competent,  _ sober _ cops that had been called to clean up her mess since she couldn’t, certain that the rolling in her stomach wasn’t thanks to the alcohol anymore. She was losing it; genuinely  _ losing  _ her grip on everything. She was a damn embarrassment, and it brought tears to the corners of her eyes that she was too damn ashamed to wipe away. Her arms folded over her chest. 

That was how Ben found her, his car parked next to the sidewalk, his long legs carrying him swiftly over to her. He wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her tight against his chest so when she breathed in it was like she’d pressed her face right up against a basket of warm, clean laundry. He smelled ridiculously clean, not that it was a bad thing, but it was a surprise. 

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He asked, voice quiet in her ear, his arms tightening on her as she heard footsteps heading toward the pair of them. 

“I just--I’m messing everything up,” she swallowed thickly. “I don’t know what the hell to do--I keep fucking it up.” She was repeating herself, even she could tell that, but there weren’t any other words for how she was feeling. 

“Rey, you okay?” Finn asked, sounding far away and yet right next to her at the same time. Did she really have  _ that  _ much to drink? She looked up from Ben’s chest, wiping her eyes as discreetly as she could. 

She nodded. “Yeah. Chief told me to go home. I’m in no condition to work right now,” she explained, feeling Ben’s arms tighten around her. There was something about the embrace that made her feel unexplainably safe against him, wrapped protectively in his grip. “I’m just gonna go, and then I’ll look at everything tomorrow. That’s what she told me to do.” Rey wasn’t in a position to argue or wonder why Finn got to stay. Then again, he hadn’t been the one to nearly throw up all over the scene. 

Finn nodded, and squeezed her shoulder. “Feel better, Rey. Call me in the morning?” 

“Sure,” she assured him with a nod, immediately wishing she hadn’t as her world began to spin. Ben’s hands moved down to her wrists, and slowly she felt him begin to lead her away from the scene. She caught Finn’s gaze lingering on her when she looked back, but nothing else was said between the two of them. By the time she’d gotten into Ben’s car he’d turned away entirely. 

 

His apartment was bigger than she’d expected it to be, though she wasn’t so sure what to think when he ushered her through it so quickly. She got the quickest, vague impression of dark walls, leather couches, and minimal decorations. Why was he in such a hurry? She felt her eyes flutter, trying to keep track of it all, when she was twisted around and stopped in his arms. “You want some water, or aspirin?” His voice was soft, and his smile sweet, and it was all she could do to shake her head and lean forward. No, aspirin would clear her head, and so would water, and the last thing she wanted was to remember how much she’d fucked up this case so far. There was something about Ben Solo that was oh so good at making her forget. 

He slid his body against hers and she felt her stomach cramp at his proximity as he crowded her back. Her heels caught on the edge of the room he was working her back into, but he wrapped an arm around her waist before she could fall backwards. As he pulled her up her lips surged up against his, desperate to find something to ground her. To pull her mind away from thinking about the body they’d found, about the implications that arose from the discovery. Anything but that. He was all too happy to oblige. His lips were warm against hers, rough enough to bring about chills racing up her arms. She wasn’t sure if it was the residual alcohol that made her head spin, or the pressure of his lips against hers that had her breath catching in her throat, but he had lit her on fire and was feeding the flame with every inch of his body that pressed to hers. 

She was getting used to the way he could lift her up and off the ground, though this time he laid her down on his bed. The sheets were soft underneath her fingertips, and she hastened to pull herself out of the button up she’d decided on that evening, her hips already trying to shimmy out of her pants and panties while her hands were busy. Ben tugged his shirt off, and hovered over her on all fours as she stripped down, greedily taking in every inch of skin as it was unveiled to him. He palmed her breasts through the sheer material of her bra, his hands fitting to them perfectly, hot palms pressed against her nipples as she let loose a breathless moan and arched into his touch. His cock ground against the silk of her panties, Rey all too glad that she’d decided on a nice enough pair that morning (though, truthfully, she’d yet to do laundry and she was running pretty damn low). She hissed as something cold hit her stomach, and watched as one of his hands stretched out to take his necklace and throw it around and over his back so that it wouldn’t get in the way anymore. As she unclasped her bra, he pulled down her panties and threw them off to the side, his lips latching onto her core with all the intent of a man dying of thirst. His tongue slid into her without difficulty, and her hands found his hair, nails biting into his scalp as he ran his tongue over her clit, then traveled all the way down the length of her slit. She ground up and against his lips when his tongue pressed to her nub once more, laying the flat of his tongue against it as two fingers pressed into her. Her skin lit up with the sensation, and her back arched to feel him find that same sweet spot he’d discovered the first time he’d fingered her. Fucker had a good memory, and she bucked her hips up and against his hand, desperate for more friction, more contact, more  _ everything _ . He gave it to her, bless him, rode out the shift in her hips until she was keening and all but ripping his hair out while his tongue teased her clit. The pleasure that had started out as such a low simmer in her belly roared, demanding to be fed as he worked her up over and over again. 

Just as she teased at the edges of her orgasm, he pulled away with a sick grin of satisfaction and she would’ve pouted if her body would ever catch up with her brain. One of her hands made contact with his cheek, and the slap made him pause. His eyes went dark, and even inebriated she wondered if she’d made the biggest mistake of her life. The last time he’d looked at her like that it’d been from the flat of his back, and she’d been sure he was going to wrap those long fingers around her throat and choke the life out of her. 

He surged upwards instead. His lips claimed hers in a biting kiss that did nothing to assuage the burning in her body, and as his hands lifted her up by the hips he slammed into her to the hilt, forcing the air from her lungs in a scream his own mouth swallowed up.  He was too big to simply fuck into her with abandon as he was right then, but the mixture of pain and pleasure made her want to claw his skin off and crawl into the recesses of his body with how perfect it felt. She settled for burying her nails into his shoulders and  _ screaming  _ as her orgasm made her vision go white. The liquor still swimming in her gut had  _ nothing  _ on this sort of high. 

He didn’t seem to mind it, and as she tightened her grip, raked her nails up his back hard enough to draw blood (she swore she felt the skin give beneath her) she felt his hips begin to buck all the faster into her. He was losing the rhythm they’d started with but  _ no way  _ was she ready to be done just yet. Hooking one leg around his waist, she managed to flip them over, grinning when it knocked the breath out of his lungs with surprise. Taking his wrists in her hands, and trying not to be sidetracked with how fucking  _ huge  _ he was in comparison to her, she pinned his arms above his head. Her breasts dragged against the flat of his body as she strained to stretch so far, and grind down on his cock at the same time. The burn was heavenly, and her lips slotted against his for a brief moment before she shifted to the side. Her tongue licked a hot stripe along the base of his jaw, and he groaned beneath her.

“Where the hell’d you learn to turn me on like this, Rey?” He growled against her ear, biting at the exposed tip. 

She shuddered. “Dunno. You just feel so good. I’m not ready to be done yet.” 

His whole body vibrated with the desire to fuck up into her, but at her words he ceased and let her take control. To say it went to her head was, well, a serious understatement. She was drunk all over again, the edges of her vision blurry as she rode him, slamming her hips against his as hard as she could. Lifting herself onto her haunches, she alternated between circling her hips above his, and lifting herself to the very edge of his cock, before slamming herself back down on it, taking more time on the upwards climb than on the downward spiral. How like life, she mused, as she felt her body beginning to tighten again. She leaned in closer and sucked a bruise to his throat. “Okay. Your turn,” she gasped, proud that her words weren’t slurred as she spoke. “Fuck me. Hard as you can, Ben. Wanna feel your cock--.” Her words were cut off as his hands broke past her grip. They molded themselves against her hips, raising her up, then bringing her back down onto his cock with more than enough force to make her eyes roll back into her head. Her hands positioned themselves on the hard planes of his abdomen, nails digging into his abs to try and hold herself still as he fucked up into her with abandon. When he canted his hips ever-so slightly upwards, the fat head of his dick grazed her g-spot with every thrust, and in no time it set her back off again. Her back arched, her hands came to palm and squeeze her breasts as her lungs contracted and her whole world dissolved into the point where their bodies met. 

He came shortly after, pulling out of her with a shout of frustration and moving a hand to angle his dick so that his come splattered against her stomach and breasts, painting her skin with his spend. She whimpered, and brought a hand down to drag her fingertips through the thick substance, and press them into his own mouth. He swallowed his own come down, eyes lidded, and she leaned forward with a whimper to capture his lips with hers and share his taste between them. 

“You’re perfect for me, Rey, you know that?” He asked when they pulled away to breathe, and she rolled off to the side. He situated himself to face her, hand cradling his head before he leaned in to slowly suckle on her breasts. She whined. 

“Not sure I’m perfect for anyone, Ben,” she whined. 

He looked up at her, and pulled away from her nipple with a slow pop. “Yes you are. You’re perfect for  _ me _ . We’re meant to be together. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it.” 

She hummed, but rolled in closer to him to bury her face against his chest rather than answer. Whatever he wanted to think. 

 

\--

 

_ There had been something so cathartic about taking the old man apart, about listening to his piteous cries even after he’d cut out the elder man’s tongue. They’d turned garbled, broken, but still the message was always the same: “Stop.”  _

_ And every time the old man so much as made a sound it only made him all the more inclined to keep going, to push further to see just how much he could take before the old man broke. His screams had long since turned to sobs, which had both been a disappointment and a revelation that had made his gut twist. Blood had pooled beneath his still breathing corpse, dripping from stumps as the old man whimpered, gagging on his own saliva and bile. The old fuck just wouldn’t die, and he was half inclined to sit there and wait until either he bled out or the old man’s heart gave up. Both would be interesting, but then the old man had tried to speak again. Waving a stubbed hand, his fingers having been collected in his lap, the old man tried to beckon him closer, and when he obliged he was rewarded with a face full of blood and spit. _

_ The old man’s wheeze of a laugh was cut off by the jagged edge of the knife being shoved into his throat. It slid in with some extra force, ripping at the larynx and shredding through the skin and muscle on its way as it was dragged down towards the old man’s collarbone. The bastard wasn’t laughing after that. Removing the blade, he wiped the blood off his face with a towel, deciding that he’d have to burn it with all the rest. The message was undeniable: ‘Fuck. You.’  _

_ The son of a bitch was lucky that his anger had gotten the best of him, lucky that his hand had been forced. There were still so many ideas left when it came to making the old imbecile suffer, but those plans would have to wait. It wasn’t as though there was a short list of people he had left to go through, oh no. He was just getting started.  _

 

\--

 

The next morning was a mad dash for Rey to get dressed and  _ not  _ think too hard about just what it was that’d happened last night. She left while Ben was still asleep, smiling to see his face so relaxed. It was rare that he ever looked, well, as non-threatening as he did right then. She’d been so certain when she’d slapped him last night that it would’ve been the end, but he’d rolled with it, and her mind brought back his last sentiment before she’d fallen asleep. They were perfect for each other. 

She wasn’t so sure she believed that, as she tugged her pants on, sans panties (something for him to remember her by),  and hunted down her bra, but whatever it was between them was volatile, and exciting. She was playing with fire, fucking the Chief’s son, but they were all adults, right? So why shouldn’t they have a little fun?

Quietly, she opened the drawer of his bedside stand, hoping to find a pad of paper or something she could use to scribble a note on, but found only a wicked looking knife, She ran a finger down the dark cherry wooden handle, wondering at why he kept it so close, but she supposed it was safer than a gun if he knew how to use it properly. 

Fighting back the desire to pull it out and look at it, her eyes zeroed in on a scrap of paper and pen, scribbling a morning note thanking him for everything, before she pieced herself back together and called a cab to get her to work. 

 

She picked up coffee for Finn and Poe on her way in, decisively keeping her head down as she hurried past the teeming crowds of men and women who were being brought in. God, it was hardly seven in the morning and they were already this busy? That didn’t bode well. 

The guys accepted the coffee with a hum of thanks shared between them, and Rey was relieved to see she wasn’t the only one with bags under her eyes. She looked over to see that the Chief was already in, too, and bit her bottom lip. She’d gone ahead and grabbed an extra coffee, just on the offhand chance, so before Poe or Finn could say anything and distract her with the case she decisively took the fourth drink in hand and stepped towards the office. She was allowed in after the second knock. “Chief? I thought, since that case came in so late last night--coffee?” She  was brownnosing. Rey knew it, Chief Organa knew it, but the woman still accepted the Starkiller Coffee with a hum of gratitude. 

“Feeling better?” She asked, her eyes glinting, sharp and flint-like in the light as she stared at Rey. 

Rey felt her cheeks beginning to color. “I’m so sorry about last night--I should have paid more attention, shouldn’t have let it get so out of hand. I’m sorry.” She was saying the word so often now that she wasn’t so sure if it sounded authentic, or whether she was simply playing a recorded loop of the words. “It won’t happen again.” 

Leia gave a hum of her appreciation, though her eyes told Rey that that wasn’t all there was to talk about. “You’ve been having a rough time with this case. Want to talk about it? I’m sure you managed to recognize who it was that ended up dead this time.” 

Wasn’t that why they were in this mess? Because she knew everyone who kept dying?  Rey nodded, swallowing thickly and fiddling with the cardboard sleeve on her coffee. “Detective Tekka. Yeah. He said that I was withholding information from this case.”

“You understand how this looks, then, without me needing to tell you.” 

How could she miss it? Four deaths, all of them people who’d adversely affected her life. All of them textbook, without any evidence. 

_ How could she miss it? _

“It’s not me,” she said quietly. “I know that doesn’t hold for much, given that he’s dead . . . but it’s not me.”

“Then you won’t mind if I ask you a few questions.” Leia’s voice didn’t offer her another choice. “You’re going to want to take a seat, Rey.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I forgot: last night I answered a couple different writers questions in regards to Opia, and I thought I'd leave a few of them here in case you missed them, or you don't follow my tumblr =]   
> [[x]](http://futurerustfuture-dust.tumblr.com/post/141694168392/before-the-beginning-of-opia-please) [[x]](http://futurerustfuture-dust.tumblr.com/post/141693123122/pov)


	11. Finder's Keepers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH!  
> I'm so sorry about the wait between chapters/updates! I'm drawing really, really close to the end of this fic, though, so hopefully the next couple chapters should be up relatively quickly. Or, at least, quicker than the updates between these two.  
> So sorry again, and I hope you enjoy this! Thanks so much for sticking around and reading!

It took her three hours. Three hours of being detained, of being questioned, and adamantly refusing, insisting, _begging_ Leia to believe her, that she had nothing to do with this. She didn’t cry, of that she was proud, but by the time she was finally let out from the Chief’s office she needed to find a bed to curl up in for the next three years of her life so she could sleep and forget about all of it.

Finn wasn’t going to let that happen, though. His gaze rose as soon as she’d left the Chief’s office, and he was standing before she could manage to sit back down. “Let’s get lunch, and we’ll brainstorm it on the way there and back,” he promised her. “I’ll drive. Want you to tell me what you notice when you look at the pictures of San Tekka from last night. Fucking nasty thing, Rey. I’m pretty jealous you weren’t there.”

He was trying to make her feel better, and she had to admit it was working, in spite of her best efforts to wallow in her own assured destruction. The greasy burger and chocolate shake he’d insisted she order helped, too, and only once she’d wiped her fingers free of the grease and cheese did she look at the polaroids from last night.

Maybe she should’ve eaten _after_ looking at these. Finn was right; given the state of her stomach last night, it was a miracle she didn’t throw up even more than she had at first glance. He’d been mutilated and positioned as though a grotesque sort of statue, his old, weathered body posed with his tongue in his fingerless hands. ‘Hold your tongue,’ had a whole new meaning, and gooseflesh prickled her arms so her hair stood very nearly on end. They’d had to know about her issues with the older man, then. The message was far too pointed not to. Holding his tongue? Nose cut off, and from the annotations on the back, shoved up his ass?

Her gaze sought out Finn, who was making a beeline towards the nearest Starkiller Coffee. “Did Chief say anything last night? About this?”

“Not to me,” Finn admitted quietly. “Once you left Han and Luke showed up, to pay their respects, I mean. Luke . . . well, he looked unbelieving. Not mad just--.”

“Old?” Rey offered, knowing all too well the expression Finn was trying to describe. “Like the weight of the world just fell on his shoulders and aged him a couple decades?”

Finn shot her a quick glance. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“That’s the look he gets whenever Ben is brought up,” she admitted quietly. “Always brings on the guilt trip.” Like the one she was experiencing from thinking about it, and about what happened between Ben and his uncle. Damn. “But he and San Tekka were friends. At the very least they knew one another well from their time together.” She tried to think about how Luke would’ve felt, seeing his friend like this, carved apart and presented as he was. She may not have liked San Tekka, but the pain this caused Luke--and Leia, likely--made her hurt. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought it all out. “Right. So. Did they offer any ideas? Prompts? Thoughts?”

“Again, none. Not to me.”

Rey scowled. She doubted they’d say anything to her, either. No, Leia didn’t trust her anymore, so she’d have her own hypothesis to wait and see if Rey would do the same thing, if Rey could come to the same conclusion. It wouldn’t surprise Rey if she had her own plans to take over the case if Rey couldn’t get any further in solving it and honestly? She didn’t blame the Chief at all. Rey would’ve done the exact same, while also putting a tail on the lead suspect to wait for some sort of proof. And as it stood, well, Rey wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d been given one from then out.

But who else had known that she and San Tekka had gotten into a fight? Who could’ve heard it, or heard about it, that would’ve given two shits about her? She cleared her throat and set the pictures face down in her lap. “Hey, Finn?”

“Rey?” He looked over at her, noticing the quiet edge to her voice. She watched his grip tighten on the wheel and wondered whether she ought to just bite her tongue. Pass it off as nothing.

But this was Finn, she could trust Finn, she _knew_ Finn. She sighed and looked over at him. “Have you--I mean, what if it’s an inside job?”

His features betrayed little, but she found herself sitting on the proverbial edge of her seat, waiting for him to call her crazy, to say that she was paranoid or delusional.

Waiting to see if he’d turn the car down an alleyway, shut it off, and bury a bullet between her eyes.

The thought had come out of near nowhere, and as soon as it had flirted with her conscious she shoved it away. Finn had as much of a rough start as she did, if not worse. Yet, despite the years he’d spent at Stormtrooper Military Academy, despite the bullying he’d endured for being a scholarship student, the experience had done away with just about any ounce of meanness he might’ve had in him. Between the pair of them they’d had plenty of late night talks while on patrol, while at the Police academy, about the conflicting feelings he’d had about their line of work. Shooting to kill, even in the line of duty to protect himself and others, wasn’t something he was proud about doing. He’d kept out of going on the military track like those around him for the same reason, citing his desire to make a direct, positive impact as a cop more so than as a cog in the military machine. Rey couldn’t say she blamed him, and it was damn preposterous of her to consider that _he_ was the one who enjoyed the pain and suffering inflicted upon these individuals.

Finn hadn’t said anything in response, biting his bottom lip and staring out at the lines of traffic ahead of them, slow moving in the afternoon lunch rush. The watery sun filtered through the clouds and the glass windshield, but provided little warmth between the pair of them. Rey’s lunch sat, fat and heavy, in her gut, churning with every second that passed until she thought she might grow sick. Had she overstepped her boundaries? Was it too much, too paranoid, for her to have suggested that?

“It’s not a bad theory,” he murmured, finally. “But we don’t have any in the Force who fit the description: tall, blond, powerfully built enough to have done this.”

“Assuming that the blond was the killer, and wasn’t someone working for them,” Rey supplied, fingers playing with the straw of her now empty shake. “But they’d still have to know how to avoid the cameras, so I think that’s out. No civ could do that. Right?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Fin murmured, as the car stopped. Rey realized with a shock that they’d not been as far away from the precinct as she’d assumed, and had since come to park in the lot just out back. When had that happened?

“Rey.” Finn looked over at her. “I wouldn’t go to anyone else with this yet, not . . . not without any proof, at least. You know?” His gaze slid to hers, and she was shocked to see his face betraying fear now, not just apprehension. There was still a fierce, protective edge to it, but there was no mistaking how scared this situation made him. “I don’t want them to hear anything, assuming that they are working in the precinct, or even close to it. If they get wind of it they’ll either back off and we’ll never solve the case, or I’ll be finding _your_ body next.”

“Good point,” Rey agreed, anxiety making her toes curl in her shoes. “Think we should keep it from the Chief, too?”

“Given that they found out about San Tekka even when we had a private conversation with them? Yeah. For now.”

There was a fair amount of truth in that, Rey had to admit as they got out of the car. Finn had only just walked to her side when Rey launched herself at him, hugging him tightly before they had to return. His arms were just as vice-like and warm around her, letting her bury her face in the crook of his neck and breathe, shaky though it might’ve been.

“Thank you for believing me.” The words were muffled, pressed up against his collar, but he softened all the same.

“Of course, Rey. You know I’m always on your side.”

 

\--

 

_His blood boiled to see them together again. He’d hoped she’d have finished with the idiot, especially after the trouble they’d gotten into the past night. He’d thought it might've driven a wedge between them, and his hand tightened over the coffee he’d brought for her. The boiling liquid seeped over the side and onto his hand, but the pain hardly registered. If anything, he swore he felt a surge of adrenaline and power bolt through him, lancing through his body. There wouldn’t be time or an opportunity to offer up a message, and so he turned and chucked the coffee in the nearest trash bin. His mind raced, recalling that hardly a few days had passed since he’d disposed of the old man, but already the familiar trembling had started in his right hand once more. Already he could practically taste the blood, longed to feel it coursing over his hands. He knew just the man to pick, too, and that didn’t send enough of a message, he had other targets in mind. He’d already avenged Rey of those who’d hurt her in the past, next came anyone who stood in his way of having her all to himself._

_He didn’t share well, not in the slightest._

 

\--

 

Rey and Finn had mulled over the potential candidates for the rest of the week, in between going over anyone San Tekka had spoke with just before his disappearance. The killer could’ve gotten away with keeping him hidden for so much longer given that San Tekka was on vacation for a week. It didn’t fit the time table that the killer had created before, unless they were just supposed to throw that out the window.

What had changed? Why had he wanted her to find him so soon; positioned as he was, there were obvious reasons behind the harm inflicted on the old man, clear messages, but there were other marks. Scars, scabs. They weren’t older than a few days before his death, the forensics leader had told them when he’d given a run down on the data.

“And he’d been starved and dehydrated the whole while. The last bowel movement he had, as he’d died, had been minimal in comparison to what it ought to have been. So, whoever the killer is really wanted him to suffer, more than just mutilation could bring about. This was intentionally drawn out,” Caluan said, looking up and over the newly cleaned and stitched together body. The brand had been as unmistakable as ever, the letters KoR standing out harshly against the man’s stark white skin. Rey still couldn’t wrap her head around that. The last Knights of Ren killing had been decades ago, and these markings were consistent with the work of one man. Not seven. If he was hoping to inspire others he wouldn’t get what he wanted; they’d been sure to not include several key facts in the case reports, including those which were published. They didn’t need six more killers running around, supporting something they didn’t understand.

That was how Snoke had gotten into power, and he’d had a lot more than six people believing the smoke he blew out of his ass. Rey didn’t want to think about how much more work she’d have trying to track down other Knights of Ren wannabes.

“So, you think he knew San Tekka well, given the nature of the cuts?” Finn asked Rey quietly once Caluan was turned. “And the torture? There’s something else we’re missing here. Think we ought to look at any enemies he might have had here?”

Though Caluan had walked away, Rey nodded wordlessly. That sounded like a direction to go in, which was sincerely better than the little to nothing she felt like they’d accomplished since. There’d been a handful of cases they were able to help out on, but not wanting to catch anyone’s attention prematurely had left them with minimal time to look up any actual leads in the police database. It was Friday, now, and the office had thinned out with officers either on the road, or taking an early break without anything on their caseload to keep them inside longer than they had to.

Luke Skywalker, standing right beside Rey’s desk, was not what she’d expected to see when they came back with every intention of starting their investigation once again. She swallowed thickly, looking from Finn to the blue-eyed man in front of her. His face split with a small smile as he noticed them both.

“Finish seeing Caluan?” he asked. “Any luck coming up with anything?”

“Almost, sir,” Rey said quickly, her palms beginning to sweat. “Is there anything we can help you with?”

“I was wondering if you’d take a walk with me. Won’t take more than a few minutes.” Luke’s eyes didn’t leave hers, and Rey found herself wondering if she was going to get the telling off of a lifetime. Luke’s last hope had been with her, that she wouldn’t turn out to be as much of a screw up as his nephew had been. He’d been forced into retirement with Ben’s slip up, but Rey always got this sort of . . . feeling from him that she was his last chance. She’d been his recommendation when it came to finding his replacement, and what had she done with his confidence?

Jack shit.

Still, she nodded, and looked over to Finn. “I’ll be back soon,” she promised. “You wanna get started without me?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” He looked to be coming out of a daze, blinking quickly. He was no stranger to Luke, but it wasn’t every day that a legend of his caliber showed up, and this was twice in the same week for Finn. If Luke noticed he didn’t say anything. He’d always had a sort of quiet control, developed once he’d gotten over his first couple years on the Force, according to what everyone said. Rey found it grounding, to say the least. It was a little easier to breathe around him, even if she felt as though she needed to be stepping on eggshells the whole while.

“How’s the case coming?” he’d asked once they were a significant distance away from Finn, who’d gone back to working on the computer. Luke’s voice was quiet enough that it wouldn’t attract attention as they made their way from the bullpen towards the long hallway that connected the main office and where the SWAT team was housed. All was quiet for the time being, and the silence weighed at her tongue as she looked down at the door, wondering whether or not Ben was working, or called off somewhere.

When she spoke she made sure her voice level matched his. “Did your sister request that you ask, sir?” He might not have been her mentor any longer but it was a damn hard habit to shake. Besides, her answering question was ridiculously impertinent herself, and though she might’ve been miffed she wasn’t so disrespectful that she wouldn’t at least add the formality to the end. This was the man who’d trained her, saw enough in her to want to help, even after he’d been officially retired. He’d stuck his neck out for her, offered her guidance.

Was it too much to hope he’d do the same now? Maybe after her behavior. She flushed even hotter as his expression turned bemused, and opened her mouth to apologize when he cut her off.

“No, no one asked for any help on your behalf. This is me, a worried mentor, checking in to see how the case is coming.”

“Oh.” She went quiet, her eyes averted. “Uh, not well, sir. I’m sorry about your friend getting caught up in it.”

“Thank you,” Luke said, voice soft. “Leia said you and your partner believe the killer is targeting those who hurt you. Those who upset you, like Lor.”

Rey wondered whether or not he blamed her for San Tekka’s death. “That’s . . . pretty much the only connection we’ve got. It’s not much--.”

“No, but it makes the most sense,” Luke interjected. “You and Finn got handed this case as your first, the universe can hardly just happen to fall into place like that. Someone is orchestrating you to fail, and possibly me through extension. As your mentor it looks a poor sight if my rookie fails--or if she were the criminal of her own case.” He paused and smiled. “Don’t worry. I know you aren’t.” Her face must’ve been transparent as her mouth opened. He smiled. “Besides, not many people could withstand Leia’s interrogation without their story cracking. She told me that yours held up.”

Rey went silent, her mouth closing. Some of the weight she’d accrued on her shoulders melted away, though not enough to make her relax entirely. Still, Luke’s confidence was a small comfort. “Well, I’m glad it wasn’t for nothing, then.” As her newest theory came to mind she looked down at her feet and considered it. He’d confided in her, so wouldn’t it make sense to repay the favor? She and Finn had been working to keep it a secret, sure, but Luke knew the Force better than anyone else she could think of. Not that the Chief wasn’t amazing, of course, but men tended to let more slip once they were around other guys. Maybe she could help trigger a thought within Luke.

But then she’d be resting on his accomplishments once more, saying she was only as good as her mentor. Anger and defiance flared hot in her gut, bringing her to bite her lip. “So, who did you have in mind? Your list of enemies, or at least those who you’ve put away, has gotta be extensive.” As if she didn’t know.

“Well, the good news is they’re still mostly in jail. I might have one lead for you. An old acquaintance who always was at the head of the KoR investigation, though we never had enough data or evidence to convict him.” He looked cross, and it was only then that it hit Rey hard. She very nearly stopped walking all together, the pair of them heading for the parking lot.

“I didn’t even--you were the head of the task force bringing the Knights in?” she asked, wetting her lips. His theory was sounding more and more plausible, though she had to force herself not to jump to conclusions. Wouldn’t it make sense to want to mess with Luke, and his legacy, by making her look like a failure? Or the culprit? Bolstered by the thought, she found herself smiling with the anticipation of finally making some decent headway into the case.

That smile died on her lips as soon as they’d stepped outside. Something was wrong, something was _off_ even if she couldn’t put her finger directly on what it was. Luke felt it, too. She watched as his expression grew solemn and concerned as he looked around the darkening lot.

“Rey?”

She pulled away, digging her right hand into her pocket to fumble at her car keys, stepping towards where her car was. She’d parked near the back of the lot, and with the ever quickening evening her car was almost entirely dark. Not enough, however, for her to miss the bloodied figure in the front of her car, his eyes glassy, dark skin having grown pale as his chest slowly, shallowly, moved. She screamed for Luke to get help or call an ambulance before she reached into her car to pull the body out, yanking her coat off to wrap it over the worst of his cuts.

 

It wasn’t until later, when Slip had been taken to the hospital, that she realized the deep, many grooves had spelled out words.

 

2187 NEXT

 

YOU’RE MINE


	12. Losers Weepers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEE!  
> Thank you guys so much for the comments and for reading! Hope you enjoy the next update <3

Rey met Finn at the hospital, and to say he was shaken up was a hell of an understatement. Slip had been his best friend, another graduate from the Stormtrooper Academy, and amazingly sweet. She’d only met him the one time, when they’d gone out for drinks at Takodana, and she felt sick at the situation he’d been found in. He’d been targeted, as far as she could tell, simply to convey this horrible message. He’d lost too much blood to be conscious and tell Rey or the paramedics who’d done it, and certainly wasn’t in any fit state to be able to tell them anything else now. The question that burned her up, though, was why on earth had he been targeted at all?

Luke’s ideas went out the window. Only a cop or someone on the Force would know Finn’s badge number and that the two men were friends and so Finn would get the message. Slip’s hands had been bound with the same rope found on Plutt though at least the material had been left behind for them to analyze this time. The material was soft, silken, and they’d already sent it down to forensics, who’d confirmed it to be popular within the BDSM scene, and that the ligature marks matched that of Plutt’s, and San Tekka’s, too. Poe, who’d come to wait with she and Finn, had looked up just how many adult stores sold the exact same brand of rope and had groaned at the sheer number of results. Rey couldn’t focus on that, not just yet.

Rather, it was the “YOU’RE MINE” that stuck with Rey. If the message was to be taken literally, then what the hell were they referencing? She was Finn’s partner, his best friend, and supposed it could have been imagined that they were sleeping together, save that they kept their friendly PDA to a minimum in order to maintain professionalism. Her pool of candidates, of potential killers, was thinning significantly and panic began to color her vision.

Trying to turn her attention back to the present, she stepped up to where Finn was standing and made to rub his back, but thought better of it. Whomever was mad at him, she could only assume, wouldn’t be pleased with that. Poe did it instead, his hands lingering ever-so slightly on Finn’s shoulders. When Finn turned, Rey caught a glimpse of fierce determination on her partner’s face.

Poe shared a similar look. “He’s going to recover, Finn,” Poe promised, his voice quiet and calm. Rey felt her throat tighten.

“How can you be sure?” Finn’s voice was strong, thinly veiled with malice, and his fists were clenched at his sides. With every pass of Poe’s hand on his back, however, it seemed to help alleviate the tension. Not enough to relax him completely, but at least it was doing something. It was more than Rey could offer him. “They keep saying that, yet at the same time they keep remarking how lucky he is to have survived at all. Which is it?”

Rey thought she saw his hands twitch, as if he’d punch the next doctor to contradict him, but the movement stopped just as soon as it’d started.

“He’ll recover,” Poe repeated, adamant in his belief. “You know him, know how strong willed he can be. He’s hung on for this long, and now he’s got the best care in the city.”

What he said after that was lost to Rey, who’d decided instead that she needed to leave. How could she have been so stupid as to think it could’ve been that simple, that Luke would just happen to have the answer? She was a damn fool, and someone entirely innocent was suffering for her arrogance and stupidity. Blinking back tears of frustration, she pressed herself to the wall opposite Slip’s recovery room, willing herself to ease into the cracks of the wall’s paint. How many more mutilations and deaths were going to be credited to her?

Poe came out moments later, Rey still breathing heavily to try and calm herself down, willing herself not to let more than a scant couple tears slip down her cheeks. He kept his distance, and she tried not to think that it was safest he did, before catching the compassion that muddled his brows. Was he waiting for her to cry? Or start talking?

Far be it from her to disappoint, and the words spilled from her lips before she could hope to stop them. “It’s all my fault. This whole thing--but Slip--.”

“Rey, none of this is your fault. You blaming yourself? It’s not gonna help you, or Slip.” He spoke calmly, but his face was drawn with sorrow. She swore she was putting at least ten more years worth of lines on his face alone. “Don’t do that, rey. Whoever _killed_ them is at fault, it’s not you--Finn doesn’t think so, either. You both take on too much responsibility for everyone else’s actions when neither of you held the blade, nor asked anyone to do this.”

“But he’s--.”

“Yeah. The words on Slip’s chest are aimed at you. Yes, Slip was found in your car. That makes you as much a victim as those whose bodies we found and whoever this Knight of Ren is--he didn’t leave a brand on Slip’s neck, though Finn believes the lacerations match. I pulled some old records, too, and was on my way to see you with them when I got Finn’s call.” He held out his phone, a picture on the screen familiar enough to make her heart stop.

“The Knight’s didn’t use serrated blades. These were from Luke’s archives, which were definitely misplaced. Had to search forever, but Ben must’ve misfiled them in the chaos that came from his first case--.”

She took the phone but didn’t look at it for more than a couple seconds when the words hit. “Wait, Ben was on the case with Luke?” Her mouth went dry and had to force herself to breathe. She had no idea it had been both Luke and Ben’s case, but it felt like slowly, the pieces were beginning to fit together.

“Yeah. It was his first case with his uncle, and last. Never got closed, so I guess Ben probably doesn’t talk about it.” Poe shook his head. “It wasn’t exactly pretty.”

This part Rey knew, but up until recently she hadn’t really taken any interest in the Chief’s only son, not having had any reason to. Aside from their first encounter, and its disastrous outcome, she hadn’t gone out of her way to speak with him, sure that it would only end poorly.

Now . . . now she hesitated to call him and question him about it, preferred instead to see him face to face. He was half decent at hiding his emotions, but she was willing to bet she’d be better. She handed Poe his phone back with the request to call her if anything changed, before she disappeared to her car. She didn’t slow down until she’d gotten back to the office. The SWAT team should’ve still been there, hopefully, and Rey banked on being able to find him at his desk as she strode quickly through the halls.

Of course he wasn’t there. Of course. Why would he have been? She bit her tongue and hardly stifled a shout of irritation to find his desk abandoned. Her hands had just balled into fists at her side as she’d struggled to come up with a new plan of action when she heard a voice calling her name.

“Rey?” Hux looked taken aback, or rather as much as he could. She doubted anything really got under his skin or surprised him, but the arched brow told her that him finding her standing just in front of Ben’s empty place was _not_ what he’d thought to find. “What’re you doing here?”

As if he couldn’t tell. She eyed him, taking quick note of the bags underneath his eyes that looked as though they ought to have their own sovereign borders, and the gunpowder around his fingertips. She forced herself to smile. “Ah, looking for Ben, actually. Is he around?”

Hux’s brow furrowed and he shook his head. “Now. C’mon, let’s go sit down. You look like you could collapse at any minute.”

Did she? Admittedly, that was a laugh to hear him say, given how dead on his feet he looked, but she followed him silently anyway. His desk was further into the bullpen than Ben’s, and almost entirely clean and devoid of the papers that cluttered every other desk around them. One lone framed picture sat on the desk, and she shot a quick glance its way. In it Hux looked less than pleased, flanked by two taller, blond figures, one of which she had to do a double take before she recognized him as Ben. He looked ridiculous, dressed in the ugliest jumpsuit that clashed horribly with his shock of blond hair. A wig, she hoped, assumed. Phasma, a woman she knew by the short, platinum bob and the haughty gaze, stood on Hux’s other side.

“When was this?” she asked Hux with a smile, eyes catching on the sticky note in the bottom right corner.

 

_Stop throwing me out, asshole._

_-P_

 

“Halloween, last year,” Hux said with a snort. “Your boyfriend looks ridiculous. You should try and talk him into something normal this year.”

“He’s not really my boyfriend,” Rey found herself murmuring quietly, almost out of habit. Her fingers snagged the edge of the picture frame and pulled it towards her. He didn’t look a damn thing like himself, the blond curls ragged and poking past the empty frames of his thick, black glasses. He looked like one of those hipsters that frequented the coffeeshops near Coruscant, and it would’ve made her laugh out loud if she wasn’t so entranced by how utterly bizarre he looked.

She missed what else Hux said, looking up to find him staring expectantly at her. She flushed. “Sorry, what?”

He had the decency to at least not look as exasperated as he likely was. “I asked whether or not he knew that you two weren’t exclusive.” The corners of his lips pulled upwards in a smirk that had her throat tightening. “I take it from your expression that _no_ he doesn’t.”

She focused intently on putting the frame back down and bit the inside of her cheek. “We don’t really talk about it--.”

“Do you two do much talking?”

“Not really.”

He hummed, considering the new gossip, before he took a seat behind the desk. “So what brought you here if you two don’t talk? Looking for another office quickie?”

She felt her cheeks grow warm as her stomach dropped out. Shit. Had Ben really told him? “How do you know about that?”

He laughed, head tipping backwards as mirth played out over his expression, replacing the exhaustion with glee. Thank God no one was at the desks near them; she didn’t think she could take any extra embarrassment. “It was a joke, but alright then. That’s why you two don’t talk so much.”

“Well--it’s not like we exchange conversation about work. He’s got his cases, and I’ve got mine--.”

But Hux’s joyful expression cut her off as he fixed her with a bemused stare. “Are you always so defensive?”

Just when she felt like she was wasting time being grilled by someone who didn’t need to know anything about her relationship. She looked down at her hands in her lap, before fixing him with a hard look. “Hux, I’m looking for Ben.Was he with you guys?”

“No.” He shook his head, and his eyes were bright with mirth even as he stared him down. “I’ve been on assignment for the last fifteen hours. I’ve no idea where your not-boyfriend is, sorry.”

Then she was wasting her time. She took another look at the picture on his desk, and he caught her staring at it again. “You can take it if it’s that interesting to you. Please. I keep trying to get rid of it and Phasma always manages to find it. At least if you remove it she won’t know where to search.”

Any other time Rey might’ve said that _no_ she was quite alright without a picture of three people she hardly knew looking less than enthusiastic about their life choices, but wordlessly she found herself removing the frame and thanking him quietly for it.

She’d just made it out of the office when her phone went off, Ben’s name showing up on her screen. He didn’t even give her a chance to greet him before he spluttered: “I’m at the hospital, where are you? I just heard about what they found in your car.”

How’d he hear about it, though? “I’m out.” She leaned up against the wall, forcing herself to keep her breathing even. She didn’t think her mind was ever going to slow down, and the low, ragged breath that left Ben on the other line wasn’t helping any. Blessedly, outside the precinct was empty, only a handful of cars left in the lot from the returning SWAT team members, so at least she didn’t have to worry about being overheard. Even so, she pressed her phone to her ear a little harder.

“Why don’t you come over? I want to see you.” He sounded near desperate, edging that fine line between pleading and demanding that had her stomach twisting. Why would he invite her back to his place if he was already at the hospital? She bit the inside of her cheek, breathing slowly. She could feel her heart quickening, as though it sensed a disturbance and so was on high alert, warning her from doing anything rash.

He didn’t do well with her silence. His words were shorter, more desperate if anything. She could practically see the anxiety that riddled his face. “Rey? Come over. Please. I need to reassure myself that you’re alright. Need to see you.”

No, this was a bad idea. A terrible, awful idea. He was worried, that was one thing, but he was practically demanding it now. She forced a relieved smile into her voice, finding that her shoulders relaxed, as if afraid that if she didn’t he’d hear the underlying fear in her voice. “Alright. I’ve gotta get a cab, then I’ll be right over.”

That didn’t seem to be enough. “I’ll come get you, where are you?”

She waited a beat. “No, Ben, it’s fine. I’ll be right over, promise.”

She heard his muttered grunt of disappointment, but he agreed to it quietly. “I’ll see you soon,” she promised, wondering whether or not she’d make it that far before losing her nerve.

As she waited for the cab to come and pick her up her fingers moved furiously to tap out a new number. Her foot tapped anxiously on the pavement as it rang three times before finally being picked up.

“I need a favor. I know it’s been a long day, but please. I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important. Don’t tell anyone.”

 

\--

 

_He paced back and forth where he’d stationed himself, hating the sinking feeling in his gut that came from waiting. He’d not been able to see her reaction when she’d found his message, sure that it was too risky to be anywhere on site when she’d discovered it, and not knowing how she’d taken the warning was making him anxious. Panicky. He gritted his teeth and threw the nearest object against the opposite wall, watching with satisfaction as the porcelain shattered, pieces littering the carpet beneath the new dent in his wall._

_It was almost time. He needed to calm down, needed to center himself. Almost time, and she’d be his. She’d see what he’d done for her, what he could do for her to keep her safe, to keep her_ his _. She’d learn to appreciate it, he knew she would. He just had to be patient._

 

\--

 

Keeping that strange sense of calm was difficult the longer Rey sat in the cab, sure that her ever increasing pulse was audible over the music that the cabbie had playing. It was fruitless to try and calm down, though, so she didn’t bother wasting her energy trying. Instead she kept glancing at her phone, at the microphone ap she’d opened. She was just being careful, wasn’t she? Nothing was going to come of this, but still there was no harm in being pragmatic about it. Right? She hit the record button as the cab began to slow down, having taken the final turn to get to Ben’s place. He was waiting outside for her, his figure unmistakable even if the overhead light of the landing didn’t play over his face. He was too broad to be anyone else.

“Keep the change,” she murmured as she slid a twenty to the driver. He thanked her, and she watched as his gaze slid from Ben’s darkened figure, then back to her.

“You’re sure I can’t do more to help?” he asked, anxiety riddling his voice, his brown eyes holding hers.

Her stomach lurched. “No. Just take a quick drive around the block, then come back. If I’m not out in twenty minutes just follow through with the rest. Thank you.” She knew her smile was shaky, but it was the best she could offer up as she got out of the car and made her way to Ben’s figure. Without seeing his face she could _feel_ his eyes on her, and she slid her phone into her front pocket so that the very end of it stuck out a quarter of an inch.

“Hey. You okay?” His words were a little shorter than usual, terse, but she smiled as though she hadn’t even noticed.

“Yeah. I mean--as okay as I can be. Can I come in?”

He grunted and stepped aside to open the door for her. Her heart lurched, but she stepped through quickly. This had better fucking work.


	13. Legends Never Die

She’d only just sidestepped a couple shards of broken porcelain when he had her in his arms and his lips slotted against hers. She didn’t fight it, just gave a quiet “oh” of surprise that allowed him full access to her mouth. Her shoulders were too tense, and she forced herself to relax before pulling away from him a couple minutes later. His brow furrowed and his eyes opened to show that his pupils had dilated considerably as he stared down at her. 

“I’m sorry. That was insensitive.” He didn’t sound apologetic, didn’t bother looking it either. “I’m just so glad you’re alive.” 

She nodded, her knotted stomach making words difficult when she was so sure any minute and she’d end up saying the wrong thing. “I know. It could’ve been me--God, the killer was so damn  _ close.  _ It’s one thing that he knows where I work, what my desk is--but now my car?” She shivered, and hid her head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair gently. She kept her eyes open, feeling something hard pressed up against her temple. Something heavy, metal, and with one long vertical beam, and a short horizontal one a little less than a fourth of the way down. 

She couldn’t let herself tense up again. She threaded her fingers together behind his back, holding him against her to give herself something to do, to keep from reaching up around his neck and dragging whatever it was out to examine. She turned her head, looking up at the man in her arms, searching his eyes as best she could manage. “Did Finn say anything about Slip?” 

Should she really be bringing him up? If her assumption was right--she’d already unleashed hell onto him. The last thing she wanted was for him to suffer further. Ben shook his head, cupping the side of her face. She tried not to focus on how warm it made her feel, how comforting it was to have him there, solid and stable. 

“I only looked for you, I didn’t pay attention to anyone else. When you weren’t there I called.” 

“How’d you even know I was gonna be there?” 

“Leia. She told me what happened with you and Luke.” His face twisted at the mention of his uncle and her mind flashed back to the file that Poe had found, the Knights of Ren case that the two had started when Ben was just beginning on the Force. “What’d he want, anyway?” 

She released him and shrugged, as though it didn’t matter. She turned her back to him, her senses hyper focused on listening to him moving around the room behind her as she stepped over the shattered porcelain and towards the living room. It was damn tidy, almost perfectly so. Eerily so. “He was checking up on me. Wanted to make sure that the case was going well and whether or not he could help.” She paused, not looking back at him but hearing his footsteps stop when she did. “He thinks he’s got a couple lead ideas, since it ties back to the Knights of Ren.” 

Silence hung, leadening the air until Rey thought she might suffocate on it. She wetted her lips, and when she was confident he wouldn’t say anything else, she turned to smile at him. “That was your case, wasn’t it? I know it’s gotta be rough talking about it--.” 

He shook his head, black curls tumbling around his face. “It’s fine.” His voice was sharp, though. Curt enough to tell her between the lines that it absolutely was  _ not  _ fine. “It was a long time ago.” 

“Before I knew you,” she murmured, taking a step back and watching as he took a couple forward. She resisted the sputtering in her brain that told her to run. 

“Things are better, now. What’d you ask him about? Did he suggest someone from the case?” He was speaking quickly, and she noticed that his hands had balled into fists at his sides. Why would he keep talking about it if it bothered him? She wrapped her hands over his, offering him up a warm smile. 

“Hey, we don’t have to talk about it.” 

His shock showed, eyebrows rising and his mouth falling open as though he’d never expected she could read him as well as she could, before he shook his head. “No. You’ve had a hard day, I want to be able to talk it out with you. If you want.” 

Did she want to, though? Shoving down the doubtful voice in the back of her mind, the one screaming at her that she was  _ wrong, so wrong! _ \--she leaned up to kiss his cheek. “That’s sweet of you, but really? I have another question for you.” 

Now he was careful to keep his face guarded, though she still swore she saw a trace of caution flit across his features, darkening his eyes and drawing the corners of his lips outwards in a grimace. It was gone a moment later. “Sure. You want a beer? Might as well get you off your feet, I’m sure you’re exhausted.” 

She was, and thanked him for the offer as she followed him into the kitchen. He clicked on the overhead florescent lights, and she took a seat. As soon as his back was turned she shifted to the very edge, not entirely comfortable just yet. Her eyes peered out around the room, never really having taken the time to look around his apartment before. There’d not been time with her generally having to rush out the door any and every time they ended up together. It was nice, she supposed. Small but well sized for one person, and aside from the cluttered countertops everything else looked relatively clean. 

Really clean, actually. Those were the whitest floors she’d ever seen in her life. Ben came back with a beer in his hand, already uncapped, for her, and she accepted it with a small smile, not taking more than the quickest of sips. Not that he knew that, of course. Growing up a woman, particularly one in the city, had taught her how to look like she was drinking more than she did. He didn’t seem to be paying much more attention than what was strictly necessary, though, so there might not have been anything to worry about. Still, the sip that she’d taken sat heavily in her gut, adding to the tumult that already threatened to make her sick. 

“You were on Luke’s Knights of Ren case, right?” she asked quietly once he’d taken a seat opposite her at the table. She watched as he sucked in a quick breath, and his shoulders went tense. 

“Yeah. First and last time on the Force,” he said, offering her the smallest of smiles. It didn’t come close to meeting his eyes, and if anything his gaze looked deadened by the question. She licked her lips slowly, and his eyes followed the movement. “Did he tell you about that?” 

She shook her head. “Poe did when he was looking up a few of the files. I’m sure Finn noticed, too. I was just wondering if any of the attacks were personal?” 

He frowned, his lips pulled together, and shook his head. “Not that I can think of. They were mostly motivated by a desire to topple the system at play, to get rid of what corruption they saw fit to scourge, depending on who was paying them of course.” He paused, fingertips tapping almost absently on the scarred wooden table.  _ Thud-thud thud thud, thud-thud thud thud _ . Her heart joined in with it, the pulse quickening as he looked back up at her from where he’d been staring off into space. “I suppose if they were motivated by someone who wanted another personal matter taken care of it would be seen as an attack or killing done to exact revenge or to avenge someone.” 

“But to your knowledge they never have before. Not that you guys investigated.” 

“No.” 

“So why would the killer do that this time? And why bring about the Knights of Ren into it, why not devise their own calling card?” Rey asked, sitting forward ever so slightly. His fingers faltered and he looked up to hold her gaze. 

“No clue.” 

“With Plutt I understand, and Bast. And with Almec I suppose it all depends on whether or not she was corrupt.” She was going to end up chewing through her bottom lip if she wasn’t careful, and she winced as she tasted blood from having broken the skin. Dammit. 

“She withheld your adoption files from you, I’d say that’s corrupt.” 

Rey paused with her eyes on the table, not trusting herself to look up. That had never been released--hell, all she knew was that Bast and Almec had talked about her character references, and that as the head of the Foster Care services she’d had her addresses on file. Not that she’d withheld her adoption files. 

Was it just her, or had the temperature dropped a good ten degrees? Her skin broke out in gooseflesh as she forced herself to breathe through her nose and take another sip of her beer. Ben was pointedly not looking at her, but he didn’t offer up an explanation for what he’d just said, either. 

They both moved at the exact same time. Rey’s chair hit the ground with a hard  _ crack _ as she skidded out of it, and Ben practically vaulted the table to get to her before she could reach the door. She pulled her gun from her side, but before she could switch the safety off he’d wrested it from her hand and ejected the magazine of her Saber so that it hit the ground just beside them. They grappled, his long fingers wrapped around her wrists, his hips angled so that she couldn’t knee him in the groin, having failed trying the first time. She snarled and shoved him with all of her strength, shifting her body so that she could smash her forehead against his nose. He let out a muffled shout, but shoved her back and against the wall. Her Saber flew from the side and her hands clawed at his face, managing to get one good slash. She felt skin give way beneath her fingernails, felt his mangled scream of pain as blood coated her fingernails and dripped down her hand, before he slammed her head back and against the wall. Her world went hazy, her skull throbbing as she felt her hands being pressed up and over her head. She had a hard time focusing on the black hair and red face of the man in front of her, catching sight first of his bared teeth before she blinked slowly to stare up at him. 

“Why?” She could barely choke out the word through the pain that throbbed in her temple, her mouth dry and her brow furrowed. “Why me?” 

“Because it’s always been you,  _ Rey _ . It’s you.” His words ought to have been a snarl, but they came out a quiet, almost reverent, hiss. “You arrive out of nowhere, you lay me flat on my fucking ass day one, and you replaced me as my Uncle’s favorite. If you’d intended to lay low, that was not the way to do it.” 

“You--. But. You hated me,” she gasped. “You only just started coming around--I don’t understand.” 

“Oh I was furious, certainly.” He laughed. “Even my mother was impressed with you, after all. You had my Uncle’s blessing, you had the position that should’ve been mine. It seemed the only fitting thing to do was hate you, or have you.” 

“So you killed--.” 

“You could hardly call them innocent,” he laughed and the sound brought her attention back with an uncomfortable snap. “I enjoyed it. Fuck, they deserved it. Every one of them. Bast, Almec--they were hurting you even if you didn’t know it yet. You, and however many others they denied and ignored. Tekka was a fool of an old man who was just pissed about being forced to retire. His number should’ve come up ages before I got to him.” 

She stared openly at him, at the way his full mouth twisted upwards, at the heavy cross hanging around his neck, the tips pointed. She would’ve bet money that it had three letters engraved on the other side of it, and her stomach lurched. 

“Oh come now. You can’t say that you wouldn’t have done the same if you weren’t given the chance.” His voice was soft as his body pressed up against hers. She had to repress a shudder as he dragged his lips across her ear. “You relish in bringing justice to those who are deserving of it. Can you look at Unkar Plutt’s life, at what he did to other girls--what he tried to do to  _ you _ \--and tell me that he didn’t deserve what I did to him? Can you say it without lying to yourself?”

Her mouth, which had opened, shut slowly. He laughed and she wanted to twist out of her skin to get away from him and the sound. “You’re fucking sick. The blond hair--that was you, too?” 

He shrugged, and the fingers that held her wrists tightened to press bruises into her skin. “It threw you off, didn’t it? I wasn’t sure if you’d ever learn of what I did for you, or if I had to tell you myself. I confess, it’s been exhilarating, but exhausting to wait for you to catch up.” 

She snarled and leaned up to bite at his nose, catching it between his teeth and letting her jaw do the rest. Blood gushed into her mouth and he screamed. His hands released to knock his fist against her temple. The wind was knocked from her lungs but she was allowed to drop backwards and scramble away from where Ben stood with a hand on his nose. His eyes were bloodshot and dark as pitch as he watched her scramble to her feet, tempted to search for her gun, but unable to take her eyes off of him as he strode towards her. 

“You fucking brat--I did all this for you!” he shouted, his hands covered in blood as he motioned, his face contorted with rage as he towered over her. “Don’t you fucking get it?” 

“I never asked you to, don’t pin this on me!” She tried putting the table between them, but his long legs made it impossible for her to stay there for longer than a couple seconds as he ran after her. She heard the sound of a knife’s spring being released, the ‘snick’ of the blade as it kissed the air, and she ran into the living room and towards the door. He made it there before her, stopping in front of the door so that she very nearly ran into him. She had to jump backwards to avoid a slice from the serrated blade of a well worn knife, and he kicked out at her legs to try and trip her instead. She managed to avoid it, but just barely, and when she landed her knees just about gave out, dragging her down to her knees to avoid a swipe aimed at her upper half. She slid onto her back and kicked out at his chest with everything she had, sending him teetering backwards and giving her more than enough time to scramble away. 

The shot that cracked through the window and struck him in his shoulder as he got up made her jump, even though she knew it was coming. Twenty minutes was up, and Kylo screamed in pain as blood spilled from the bullet hole just beside his right shoulder. Through the haze of adrenaline coursing through her body, Rey scampered towards him and kicked the knife away and out of his range, flipping him over onto his front so she could snarl. 

“Don’t you dare die, you asshole. Ben Solo, you’re under arrest for the murder of Tomas Bast, Mela Almec, Unkar Plutt, and Lor San Tekka. If you bleed out, I swear I’ll fucking bring you back to arrest you again.” 

He spat and writhed beneath her, his skin going so pale that, as soon as she had him cuffed with the pair she’d managed to stow in her jacket pocket, she had to apply significant pressure to his shoulder to keep him from bleeding out. No way in hell was she letting him get off that easily. 

 

Hux confirmed that he’d called in the others before he even got to Ben’s apartment, his face expressionless as he stared down at the pale man lying beside Rey’s feet, having only just come in to make sure that Rey was doing alright. She’d bandaged Ben’s arm as best she could, and already could hear the sirens of the ambulance as it drew closer. Her gaze was on the fallen knife, her grip was tight on her phone where she’d saved the recording of Ben’s confession, and with a couple quiet words Hux confirmed that he’d take the man. He’d already been read his rights, and now it was all Rey could do to watch them both go in silence. Ben stared at her as Hux lifted him up to his feet, his eyes boring into her, accusing her of putting him in this position. It wasn’t until they neared the edge of the door that his anger cracked in two. 

“Rey. Don’t do this.” He tried pulling away from Hux, but the ginger man only held him tighter, applying pressure on his shoulder to make him more compliant. The pain registered on his face, but it didn’t stop him. “I did this for you. I DID THIS FOR YOU!” His words echoed as Hux dragged him away, reverberating around the walls as Rey stood there. Only when she heard Ben’s shouting stop all together did she drop down to her knees and let the reality of the moment wash over her. 

She was so fucking stupid, so stupid for not having seen it earlier. Gasping great lungfuls of air, she squeezed her eyes together and took ten seconds to pull herself together, counting internally to help lengthen her breathing and ease her out of the full blown panic of the moment. That would come later, when she was in her apartment, and she could dissect every fucking second in which she’d allowed herself to be taken in by Ben Solo and his bullshit. His accusations rang in her ears, as if he was standing next to her and screaming them himself. 

He was an adult. He made his own damn decisions, and now he’d face the consequences for them. She hadn’t asked him for anything, hadn’t made any demands of him. Hadn’t even spoken to him outside of the initial meeting. This wasn’t her fault. Somehow, though, that didn’t seem right. 

 

Finn met her up in Ben’s apartment where she was watching evidence be bagged up by the team of officers that’d come along with the ambulance. Rey was directly overseeing the process, her hands tucked underneath her folded arms to keep the team members from seeing her tremble, and she actually jumped when Finn put his hand on her shoulder. 

“You okay?” he asked, voice quiet and eyebrows rising. He knew the answer to that already, it was practically written in his eyes, but she nodded anyway. 

“Fine. Just tired.” She nudged her head in the direction of Ben’s room. “They found just about everything already: the rope, the wig that he used. It was part of a stupid Halloween costume--I don’t know why I didn’t think--.” 

“Rey.” Finn took her gingerly by her shoulder and led her over to the side of the room, away from the overeager ears of the team, and into the hallway. He stared at her once they stopped, and she could’ve fallen right then and there from the sheer amount of sympathy that echoed between them. “Rey. Don’t think of this as your fault. It’s not.” 

“But--.”

“No, listen to me,” he insisted. “You think I would’ve ever come to the conclusion that it was Ben Solo, fucking wonder child of Leia Organa Solo and Han Solo? No way. No one would’ve thought that, so it’s not your fault for not realizing it was him in a wig. None of this,” he said the words forcefully, and she felt her trembling grow worse. “Is your fault. Never will be. I know I reacted poorly when Slip--.” 

She shook her head. “You were in shock. It’s nothing--.”

“It wasn’t good of me, though.” 

Caluan’s head poked out from the door, and his eyes zeroed in on them. “Hey, we’re all done here. Found the plastic tarp he’s been using. You two want to do another look through just in case?” 

Finn’s head turned. “In just a moment.” 

The man nodded, and Finn turned back to Rey. His warm arms enveloped her slowly, and she let herself melt into the embrace, her head resting on his shoulder, as she unraveled for the first time in what seemed like years. His arms held her still as she broke and shook, his shoulder muffling her sobs of disbelief, his shirt absorbing her tears as he rubbed her back gently. His voice was quiet in her ear, soothing her that it was all over. Everything, the nightmare, was over, and she’d gotten the perp. 

After a few minutes of hearing it, she even started to believe it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my friends, after much consideration I have decided that this is where I'm going to end this fic. It felt fitting, and though I tried to make sure it wasn't too abrupt, it just felt as though this was where this part was supposed to end. 
> 
> ...That being said I'm pretty sure that, at some point, I'm going to write a second part to it. I don't know when just yet, but it is being conceptualized :D  
> I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you guys so much for reading and for all of your support throughout this process! You're incredible, amazing people, and I couldn't have done it without all of you. Thank you from the very bottom of my heart. You've made writing this a joy.


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